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ramblingoak · 7 months

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Copia on ICE! ~ part one ~

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader ~ At what would probably be your final Winter Olympics you needed to focus on realizing your dream of winning gold. You definitely didn't need to start a whirlwind romance with world famous speed skater Copia Emeritus...

~ I commissioned @enjoy-my-swearing to bring speed skater Copia to life so please take a moment to appreciate her amazing work (especially the butt sparkles) ~

Warnings: a vague understanding of how the Winter Olympics actually works also their ages are obviously gonna be a little funky so just roll with it, angst, fluff, smug copia, fingering, dirty talk, lots of kissing, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, about 15k words

“Elegant…graceful…soft.”

Your coach’s words echoed in your head as you skated across the ice. Reminders of how figure skaters should appear while they perform. The music to your short program reached its crescendo in your head and you pushed yourself into your first jump, quickly leaping into the second as you landed. You spun towards the stands with your arms extended out, smiling towards all the imaginary people looking on.

“Do you think he’s into fisting?”

“Jesus Christ Terzo!” You slid to a stop in front of where your friend and roommate was lounging against the rink wall staring at his phone. “What the hell?”

“I’m just asking!”

“But why are you asking me when you should be asking him?”

“I will but you know, one needs to prepare themselves for every possibility.” He glanced up from his phone with a smirk on his face. “Like fisting.”

“How about you keep your possibilities to yourself.” You skated to his side, placing your elbows on the low wall while you gave him a stern look. “And stop saying fisting.”

“Fine, fine.” His phone screen lit up and Terzo grinned at whatever was on there before he quickly typed out a response. When he was done he turned and gave you a quick grin. “Have I ever told you that you are my favorite person?”

“Yes, but you only tell me that when you have bad news or you want something.” Terzo’s grin wavered a bit but his phone lit up again and he giggled at whatever he saw on it. “Just spit it out Terzo.”

“Would you mind terribly if I left early?”

“How early? We still have the rink for a few hours.”

He winced, glancing at his phone again before sheepishly meeting your eyes.

“Now?”

“Now? Terzo, you need to practice!”

“SÍ, grazie coach, I know.” He pushed off the wall and skated around you to the opening. “I’ve been practicing for weeks. Months.” You watched as he grabbed his blade covers and went to sit on the bench where he’d tossed all his gear. “Years!”

“That’s the point Terzo! We do all this practicing for a reason, to get to where we are today.” You grabbed your own covers and followed him out of the rink. “You do remember we’re at the Winter Olympics, right?”

“We’re at the Olympics?!” Terzo gave an exaggerated gasp and you rolled your eyes. “Amica mia, I know this. How can I forget when you’re covered in feathers.”

Glancing down at your costume you let out a sigh. Swan Lake hadn’t been your first choice of song for your short program, mostly because you knew your coach would lean into the swan aspect way too much. White feathers decorated the fabric from your chest down to the short skirt. When you looked at the ground you could see a few feathers had fallen off and were scattered over the floor. With a huff you crossed your arms and looked back to glare at Terzo.

“At least I’m covered in something. Your costume is 80% lace. Does that even meet the regulations?”

“Omega liked it.”

“Oh well if Omega likes it then that’s all that matters.” You both glared at each other for a few beats before you sighed and trudged over to sit by him on the bench. “Is he a snowboarder?”

“Hockey.”

“Well Secondo will be pleased at least.”

“Eh, he plays for Sweden.” At that you winced, Terzo’s older brother was the head coach for team Italy and probably wouldn’t be thrilled Terzo was sleeping with someone from a rival team. “You should see him, cara mia. Wide shoulders, thick arms and an ass to die for.”

“That sounds like most hockey players.”

“No no, he’s not just a hockey player. He’s the captain.”

“The captain? Then why the fuck are you still here? Go get him!”

Terzo laughed, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on your forehead.

“I knew you’d understand.”

He bent down to start untying his skates and shoved them along with the rest of his things into his gym bag. You tried not to feel a pang of jealousy as you watched him work. Terzo was so much more carefree than you were, something you really appreciated in the last few years. You were still recovering from a knee injury when you first met him and his humor and kindness had done wonders for you. It also helped that as soon as you had met his older brother you basically had been adopted into the family.

Primo was a member of the curling team and while it wasn’t the most popular sport his success made him fairly well known. He had spent most of his life acting like a father to his three younger brothers. Their actual father, Nihil, had been absent for much of their life. If you asked any of them they would state that Primo was the head of the family and wouldn’t bring up Nihil’s name at all.

Secondo was the second oldest, an imposing and stern man to anyone outside his close circle of family and friends. He had spent most of his life playing hockey, one of the best goaltenders that the sport had ever seen. His nickname was Bone Daddy although few dared call him that to his face. The design of his mask was that of a terrifying skull, a design he had claimed had been used by Emeritus family members from long ago.

Although you were pretty sure the story he told you about the family running a Satanic Church was completely made up.

His terrifying reputation on the ice was enhanced by the fact that under his mask and helmet he painted his face with the same skull design. Secondo reveled in pulling his mask off to startle members of the opposing team and referees alike. He probably would still be tending goal if he hadn't injured his shoulder years prior. Now he was the head coach of the Italy team, skull makeup still proudly worn every game and oftentimes in between.

The one brother you hadn’t met yet was Copia. Although with as much as the media loved to talk about him each Winter Olympics you were surprised you hadn’t. Copia was one of the most decorated athletes in any Olympic sport. You had been hoping to run into him at some point, mostly just so you could meet the entire family, but deep down you could admit there was another reason: Copia Emeritus was gorgeous.

The entire family was to be more accurate, but Copia was the face that had the habit of popping into your head when you were daydreaming. It didn’t help that he seemed to be everywhere right now. With what was being touted as his last Olympic Games it seemed like every reporter was clamoring to interview him. You’d seen his face across a majority of the magazines littered around the Olympic village lounge area and you really hoped Terzo never found the one you had already swiped to look at later.

Your musings were interrupted when Terzo zipped his bag closed and stood up, seemingly looking around for something. You snorted when you realized what he was missing.

“You left your coat in our room, remember?” Terzo’s shoulders slumped and he groaned. “Something about ‘giving everyone a show’ while we walked here?” When he grabbed yours that you’d thrown over the rink wall you got up as well. “Hey, no that’s mine!”

“Per favore, amica mia?” He got distracted by his phone beeping again and after a quick look he turned to you even more desperate. “Omega wants to go sightseeing and then go back to his room after…”

“And you’re dressed like that.” He nodded at you while he pouted and really, that shouldn’t work as well as it did. “Ok, fine! You might as well take my sweatpants too, don’t need the entire town seeing your ass hanging out.”

In short order you had your friend bundled up and ready for his date. It was cute to see him continually checking his phone, you’d never seen Terzo so excited about a date before. You were about to go back out on the ice and start practicing again when the doors at the back of the stands opened and a figure blocked out the light.

“Terzo that guy looks like he could break you in half.”

“Fuck I hope so.” He pulled you into a fierce hug before starting up the stairs. “Don’t wait up!”

“I suppose I’ll need to take your bag back to our room?”

Terzo turned and flashed you a grin before making it up to Omega and practically launching into the guy’s arms. Omega held up a hand and you waved back, lowering it with a sigh when the two men went out the door and left you alone. You turned back towards the rink, shooting a glare at the two huge bags you’d now have to lug back to the village. Well, no use worrying about that now, you had two hours left to practice and you were determined to get your routine perfect.

Anything less than that wouldn’t get a medal around your neck.

Hours later you were exhausted and desperately wanting to be out of your costume and back in your room. Easier said than done considering you had to lug both yours and Terzo’s things back with you.

“Goddammit. Ugh!” You straightened up, lifting Terzo’s bag and slinging it over your head as you turned. “He better be the lay of the centur—shit!”

As you turned to head towards the exit you ran right into a solid something. You immediately took a step away but with the extra weight hanging off your back you kept going, falling backwards and landing on your ass. With a groan you let your head fall back onto the ground. The man you had slammed into was laughing, a deep chuckle that reminded you too much of Terzo. You heard fabric rustle and then felt a hand touch your knee.

“Is uh, everything okie dokie?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” With a groan you started to sit up, flailing a bit until the man grabbed one of your hands to help. “You know you shouldn’t sneak up…oh.”

Copia Emeritus was mere inches away from you.

His brown hair was combed back, flecks of gray catching on the fluorescent lights. There was some dark makeup around a familiar set of eyes, one green and one white. A carefully groomed mustache sat above a full set of lips. Your eyes couldn’t help but trail down his body, the jacket was emblazoned with the colors of the Italian flag. Below that he seemed to be wearing a uniform, tight fabric hugging his hips and—

“Sneak up on?”

“Thighs!”

Damn it. You dropped your head into your hand with a groan.

“Did you hit your head?”

“Uh, yes?” The man crouched down again, a gloved hand pulling your own away from your face. When you dared to look at him he was smirking, another familiar feature shared with your friend. You decided to try for indifference and hoped he bought it. “Copia?”

“Copia.” He placed a hand on the back of your head, his fingers probing through your hair. You tried to swat at his hand but he easily grabbed it with his free one. “Quit that, I’m trying to make sure you aren’t hurt.”

“I’m fine! It’s fine.” Copia pulled away, holding his hands up in surrender. You ignored the little pang of…whatever after he did so. Instead you focused on pulling the bag straps off your shoulders and trying to get up. Sheepishly you met Copia’s eyes, scrunching your nose up at the amused look on his face. “Could you lend me a hand?”

“Oh now you want a hand, eh?” He chuckled at your grumbling, taking your hands and easily pulling you to your feet. “Upsy daisies.”

“Daisy.”

“Is that your name?”

“No, it’s—upsy daisy. Not daisies.” When Copia gave you a confused look you groaned and turned around, glaring down at the bags. There were more feathers from your costume resting on the ground and you quickly knelt down to grab them. “Damn it.”

“What is this anyway?” You looked up at him as you picked up the feathers, narrowing your eyes at the fingers wiggling your way. “Your clothes.”

“It’s my costume.”

“Costume for what?”

“I’m a figure skater.”

“Ah, so you probably know mio fratello, Terzo.”

“Unfortunately.” You chose to ignore how handsome his smile made him look, standing up again with a handful of white feathers. He kept eyeing your costume, looking up and down your body with what you hoped was appreciation. “What?”

“You are uh, una paperina?”

“Huh? Yeah. You know, Swan Lake.” Copia was biting his lip, looking to be about two seconds from laughing. Ok so, not appreciation. “What now?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Just remembering Terzo covered in feathers when he skated to that too.”

“It’s a popular song.”

“Sí, I think everyone skates to it at least once.”

What the fuck?

“And? It’s a good song!”

“Paperina, I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“Skating to Swan Lake is a lot more difficult than skating in a circle.”

Ha! That got him. Copia’s eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Is it now? Have you ever watched speed skating?” He huffed when you shook your head. “I think if you watched you would change your mind.”

“Yes, well I’m busy right now so I’ll take a rain check.” You turned and knelt down again, shoving the feathers in a pocket of your bag and then slinging the strap over your head. “It’s late, I’ve gotta get back to my room.”

“Do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”

“What?” As you stood up you couldn’t stop yourself from wavering on your feet again, but this time Copia kept his hands to himself. “What are you talking about?”

“Ah, doesn’t the swan turn into a pumpkin if they aren’t back home at midnight?”

“You are mixing two very, very different fairy tales.” Copia shrugged, seemingly unbothered with fairy tale lore. As you reached down and picked up Terzo’s bag your balance shifted again but you moved away when Copia reached out to steady you. “I got it!”

“Has anyone ever told you how stubborn you are Paperina?”

“Once or twice.” You took a few steps to the side to go around Copia but he moved to block you. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are?”

“Once or twice.” God, even his smile was annoying. And handsome. Damn it. “I’m actually looking for my brother.”

“He left a while ago with some guy.”

“Of course. Hockey player?”

You couldn’t help but grin, it was clear Copia knew his brother well.

“The captain of the Swedish team in fact.”

“Ha! Secondo is gonna love that.” He looked down and motioned towards Terzo’s bag. “Isn’t that his?”

“I’m taking it back to our room for him. Apparently. Hey!”

“Allow me.” He easily tugged the bag out of your hands, grinning in response to your narrowed eyes. “Where’s your coat? It’s too cold out there for Swan Lake.”

“Terzo needed it more.” At Copia’s raised eyebrow you just shrugged. “His costume has a lot of lace.”

“Ah, should have known.” He sighed and set his brother’s bag down, bringing his hands up to the zipper on his hoodie and quickly pulling it off. “Wear this while I walk you back.”

“I don’t need your escort or your hoodie.”

“You are unfortunately getting both Paperina so chop, chop. Let’s go.”

You both stared each other down, although his look was much more amused than yours was.

“Fine, whatever. Gimme.” His little smug grin had you gritting your teeth. It was unfair that he looked this good. Once you had his hoodie on and zipped up you held your arms out. “Happy?”

The look he gave you then was definitely appreciative. Lingering long enough on your face that you hoped he thought your red cheeks were from the cold and not your blush.

“Molto felice.” Copia easily swung Terzo’s bag over his shoulder and gestured for you to go ahead of him. “You first Paperina.”

The walk back to the Olympic Village was mostly quiet. Once or twice you thought you heard him singing softly under his breath but he stopped whenever you glanced his way. You were trying very hard not to stare at him. Copia carried himself in that confident way athletes at the top of their game had. It made you self conscious and you immediately straightened up, pulling your shoulders back and correcting your posture.

It had been a while since you’d been at the top of yours.

The large lounge area on the main floor was still mostly full. Athletes from all sports and countries getting to know each other or sitting quietly on their own. Four years ago you’d be down here with them, finding new friends and connections. You couldn’t afford that this year though, not with so much on the line.

“Paperina?” Copia’s voice dragged you from your melancholy thoughts. You expected to see an amused look on his face but instead he looked almost concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yes. I’m good. Actually this is good.” He raised an eyebrow when you held your hands out for Terzo’s bag. “I got it from here.”

“Terzo already bitched at me about how far away his room was, let me help.”

“No it’s fine, really.” Copia sighed, seemingly understanding he wasn’t going to win. “Thank you for your help though.”

“It’s nothing. The least I could do, uh, since my brother left you.”

“I’m not mad, it was for a good cause.”

“Sí, a hockey captain.” You stared at each other for a moment, long enough that you started fidgeting under his stare. “Have a good night Paperina.”

“You too Copia.”

He gave you one last smile before turning and heading off, disappearing into a crowd of Canadians. With a sigh you began to make your way towards the elevators for your section of the dorms. Terzo was right, your room was far away. But it was nice to be able to room with your friend. You knew Terzo had thrown his family name around, and probably a little money, to make it happen. It made times he did stupid things like tonight more bearable.

Still, it didn’t stop you from dropping both your bags down in front of your door with a curse aimed his way. Another curse left you when you noticed the sock on the doorknob. You started knocking on the door sharply, turning your hand to hit it with the side of your fist when nothing happened.

“Terzo!”

There was muffled cursing behind the door and the sound of something being knocked over before it opened and your friend shoved his head through the opening.

“Sí?”

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? Didn’t you see the sock?” You flinched back when Terzo yanked it off the doorknob and swung it in front of your face. “I’m having sex!”

“Good for you, why are you having sex in our room? I thought you were going back to Omega’s!”

“Ah well, you see his roommate had already claimed the room. So. Here we are.” Terzo’s grin turned into a grimace when you twisted his nipple. “Ai! I just got that pierced!”

“I don’t care! I am tired, I am cold and I’m dressed like a fucking swan. Let me in.”

“I am begging you to go away.”

“Where am I supposed to go?!”

“I don’t know! Go mingle downstairs! Show off your feathers.” He jerked back, slamming into the door to get away from your fingers. “Stop pinching!”

“Stop being an asshole!”

“Amica mia, please. Omega.” Terzo gestures towards the door in that hopeless way he did when he was struggling to find the right words. “I like him.”

“Like like?” He rolled his eyes but gave you a quick nod. Goddammit. “Alright! But just tonight though!”

“Sí, sí. Just tonight.” Terzo tugged you in for a quick hug, pressing a noisy kiss into your temple before pulling away. His hands lingering on your shoulders as he looked down at your chest. You were about to tell him off for staring before you realized he was looking at the hoodie. Copia’s hoodie. “Where did you get this?”

“Your brother came looking for you and took pity on me.”

“Maybe he just didn’t want to be seen next to that costu—ow, ow! What did I say! They are healing!” He hissed at you as he pressed himself back into the door, his arms crossed comically high on his chest. “Are you two friends now?”

“Sure, we’re best friends. I think we’ll room together at the next Olympics.” When Terzo started waggling his eyebrows you groaned. “Shut up.”

“This is his last one, amica.” You gave him a questioning look but Terzo just shrugged. “That’s what he’s been saying at least.”

“Anyway, how long do you need? Five minutes? Ten?”

“You did see Omega, right? Try five hours.” You wrinkled your nose at the thought and Terzo gleefully continued, “He likes to switch too. Is this…is this what love feels like?”

“Two hours. No, stop pouting. You have two hours Terzo before I break the door down.”

“Fine. Deal.” He opened the door again and grabbed the bags, quickly tossing them inside before spinning around with a grin on his face. “Go make some new friends while I make some babies.”

He laughed at the horrified look on your face, taking advantage of it to slip back into the room and shut the door. The sound of the lock clicking was loud in the empty hallway. You sighed and shoved your hands into your borrowed hoodie, looking down at it for a moment and then freezing when you saw the feathers peeking out from below.

“Fuck.”

The lounge was thankfully a little quieter when you got back down there. No one gave you any weird looks at least. You found a seat close to one of the big fireplaces and settled down, letting the heat wash over you. Hopefully no one would bat an eye if you fell asleep, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time an athlete had been locked out of their room for one reason or another.

“Paperina?” You groaned and looked up into the face of Terzo’s brother. “What are you doing down here?”

His clothes were different, you could see the blue of his skating suit peeking out at his neck and at his wrists. He had reapplied the makeup around his eyes too, as well as covering just his upper lip. It probably would bother you more if Terzo didn’t regularly wear skull makeup during his routines. The Emeritus family was interesting, you had to give them that.

“Your brother and the hockey captain were there.” A flash of irritation washed over Copia’s face so you quickly reached out and grasped his hand. When he glanced down at it you immediately let go, watching as he flexed it afterwards. “It’s fine, I gave him two hours.”

“You’re going to sit here for two hours?”

“Yes, it’s ok. I’ve got the fire and I can take a little nap.” You flinched when a few guys started shouting at something playing on a tv nearby. “I’m good.”

“You’re too nice Paperina, that stronzino doesn’t deserve you.” Copia held both of his hands out to you smiling when you just stared at them. “Let’s go, you can come with me.”

“Come with you where? Hey!”

He had reached down and grabbed your hands, easily pulling you out of the chair and ushering you ahead of him towards the door.

“If you’re gonna just sit somewhere you can sit and watch me skate in circles. How about that?”

He looked cocky and sure of himself, exactly how you’d expect an eight time gold medalist to look. You bit your lip as you thought it over. Speed skating had never been a sport you sought out to watch. Skating in circles was boring, no one could convince you otherwise. But you couldn’t help but glance down at his legs, at the sweatpants you knew were covering that tight uniform. The tight uniform over those huge thighs.

At least the scenery would be nice.

“How long will this take?”

“Eh, usually I practice for three hours.”

“I gave Terzo two.”

“We both know he’ll beg you for one more so just sit here like a good little Swan Lake and watch, okie dokie?”

“Ugh, fine.” Copia raised an eyebrow when you shivered, the hoodie of his not doing much against the cold of the rink. Your thin costume underneath didn’t help either. “I’m fine.”

“Do you ever get tired of pretending to be fine?”

His question stunned you long enough you didn’t even protest when he pulled his coat off and threw it over you. Copia was grinning when you yanked it off your head, watching as you situated it over yourself for a moment before he headed towards the locker rooms. You tried very hard not to watch him go but it was near impossible and you were too tired to care. After a few minutes of looking around you couldn’t help but burrow deeper into his coat, his cologne clinging to the fabric. You allowed yourself one deep inhale, your eyes closing briefly while you tried to pinpoint the brand.

“Acqua di Gio.” You flinched, nearly slipping off the bench at Copia’s voice. “Armani.”

“I know it’s Armani.”

Your voice came out a little harsher than you wanted but luckily he just seemed amused. After you had settled back into your seat you managed to look him over. Gone were the sweatpants, he was now just in his sleek skating suit and it was clinging to every dip and curl of muscle on his body. You didn’t even bother looking back up at his face, you knew by now he’d be smug as all hell. Instead you noticed a styrofoam cup in his hand, finally meeting his eyes when he held it out towards you.

“Hot cocoa. To warm you up.” You timidly reached out and took it, not even minding when his gloved fingers lingered against yours. “Unless you want more of my clothes.”

“Fuck off.” His chuckle was starting to become one of your favorite sounds and this was ridiculous, you barely knew him! You needed to get some distance and clear your head. “Go on, show me how well you can skate in a circle.”

His only answer was a smirk as he backed away a few steps before heading towards the opening to the rink. He pulled the covers off his blades, tossing them to the side before shooting out onto the ice. There were a few others already out there and it was fascinating to see them give Copia space, a sign of deference you supposed. He nodded their way but didn’t say anything, just started to go through a series of stretches while you all looked on.

Despite the public setting it felt very private. Terzo had been sharing a lot of little anecdotes about his brother since you’d both arrived at the Games. Information you wouldn’t hear about in anything official. You knew that Copia had been having problems with his knee, that it had been obviously bothering him more and more. He’d only received one gold in the last games when he normally would get it in all of his events. Since then he hadn’t competed much, a few European tournaments here and there.

According to Terzo he was saving himself for one last Olympic Games, this Olympic Games. Copia was determined to go out at the top of his game. With the way the media and even his brother had depicted him, an extremely serious athlete that seemed to live on the ice it was strange to look back on the last few hours and how he acted. He was far more carefree than you expected. Quick to joke around even if it was at your expense.

You had a feeling Paperina didn’t mean what you thought it did.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the distinct sound of skates gliding across the ice. It was louder than what you were used to but as you looked out towards the rink you easily figured out why. Copia was a blur as he moved across the ice, his powerful legs pumping him towards each corner. It was then he’d lower one side of his body down, his fingertips grazing the ice and keeping him balanced until he was through.

“He’s something else, isn’t he?”

You smiled at the man that sat down next to you, someone you had looked forward to seeing as soon as you had arrived at the Olympic Village.

“Hi Primo.” He gave you a warm smile, knocking his shoulder against yours. “Did you come to cheer him on?”

“It seems that’s what he brought you for, hmm?” You rolled your eyes, hunkering further down into Copia’s coat. “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We just met actually, a few hours ago.”

“Thick as thieves already then, I’m not surprised.” He ignored the questioning look you gave him so you shoved your elbow into his side. “Careful now, I’m an old man.”

“He just feels bad. Terzo kicked me out.”

“I warned you not to room with him.” He shook his head but he was clearly not surprised at Terzo’s antics. “A snowboarder?”

“Nope, hockey. The captain of the Sweden team.”

“Secondo is going to kill him.”

“Good, then I’ll have the room to myself.”

It was Primo’s turn to elbow you and when you looked his way he nodded towards the rink. Your eyes immediately found Copia’s as he leaned against the wall. He had taken his helmet off and his hair was all over the place. You could see how flushed his cheeks were already, his breathing heavy from the laps he’d put in.

“I don’t know, looks like you might have some company.”

He didn’t give you a chance to say anything back, but you were too dumbfounded to say anything anyway. Primo waved at his brother before giving your leg a squeeze and getting up. His movements were a little slower than you remembered but you knew when it was time for his event he’d be gliding across the ice just like he’d been doing for years. There was a reason he’d led the Italian curling team to so many podiums.

You took a long drink of your cocoa, a little disappointed it had lost most of its warmth. Copia was still looking your way when you glanced at him although you couldn’t read the expression on his face. The eye contact was lost when one of the other skaters stopped by him and you let out the breath you’d been holding when he looked away.

This was ridiculous, you were acting like some love struck teenager. You needed to get a grip. Neither one of you could afford distractions right now. Both of you skating with the same goal in mind but for very different reasons. As if on cue your knee twinged slightly and you slowly stretched it out in front of you. It was fine, it was going to be fine. You’d gotten silver in the last two tournaments you’d done leading up to this year's Olympics. It was fine.

You were fine.

“Hey.”

“Goddammit.” The man next to you was the same one that had been talking to Copia on the ice. You took a quick breath and glanced up at him. “Uh, what’s up?”

“I’m supposed to give you this.” He thrust another styrofoam cup towards you so you quickly set down the empty one you had been holding. “And this.”

In his other hand was one of those large soft pretzels that every concession stand on the planet sold. The kind covered in salt and butter. They were your favorite thing to get whenever you needed something quick to eat. You eagerly took it from the man’s hand, muttering a thanks when he nodded and then started walking towards the locker room.

Back on the ice Copia was doing laps again. Everyone else had left so it was just him out there, although he was acting like he was fighting off a handful of other skaters. His movements were truly mesmerizing. Even from your seat you could see his muscles move, see the concentration on his face as he made lap after lap.

He slid to a stop right in front of where you were sitting, catching your eyes as you took a huge bite of the pretzel. Part of it was sticking out of your mouth as you watched him. It was too late to try to be ladylike about it so you just ate it how you normally would. Copia held up a finger, gesturing at his wrist briefly. One more hour then. You nodded at him, saluting him with the rest of your pretzel and finding way too much joy in the sound of his laughter echoing from the rink.

“Is your knee ok?”

You were on your way back to the dorms, snow starting to softly fall around you. Copia had taken his hoodie back but you were still wearing his jacket. His cologne had probably permeated your costume at this point and you were stuck between liking the idea but also dreading the distraction it might bring.

“It’s good, feels good to walk.” You let your face fall into the neck of his coat, trying to hide your smile. “How about yours?”

“Eh it will be fine. A nice massage, some ice and it will be good as new.”

“I didn’t realize the clinics were open this late.”

“I’ll be massaging it myself, Paperina. That is unless you’re offering?”

“No! No I’m not.” He snorted and was shaking his head when you looked at him again. “What?”

“You don’t have to be so scandalized. What’s a little knee massage between friends huh?”

“So we’re friends?”

The automatic doors of the building slid open and you couldn’t help but start to walk faster. Copia easily picked up his pace to match yours, following you all the way to the elevators towards your section of the dorms.

“Is that what you want? To be friends?”

There was no denying the charged air between you two. The attraction between you both had been building ever since he had taken Terzo’s bag from you. You couldn’t help but take a step back though, wincing when a brief look of disappointment appeared on his face.

“I don’t think we can afford to be anything else.” You knew your face showed your own disappointment and you didn’t bother trying to hide it. Your fingers twisted nervously where they were hidden in the sleeves of his coat while you debated on saying what you wanted to. Fuck it. “At least for right now.”

“Right now?” His smile was back as he walked towards you. It grew slightly predatory when you started to back away, only stopping when your back hit the wall by the elevator doors. “Then when can that change?”

“After our events. We can’t get distrac—oh.” Copia had pressed forward, resting his forearms against the wall by your head. He had showered in the locker room but there was still the slight smell of sweat on him. His head dropped close enough you felt his lips brush ever so slightly against your cheek. “Copia…”

“Our events then. After we get gold, yeah?”

“Yes. At least I hope so.”

“Don’t worry Paperina,” Copia stepped back, smiling smugly as he held your gaze. “I’ll give you one of mine if you don’t.”

Thankfully the sock was gone when you got back to the room.

You quietly opened the door, peeking in but not seeing anyone inside. They must have been able to go back to Omega’s room. You took advantage of the emptiness, quickly shucking Copia’s coat and tossing it over a chair. The next part was your costume, you had to be extra careful removing it. The last thing you wanted to worry about doing was losing more damn feathers.

The shower felt heavenly and you got it as hot as you dared. The scent of Copia’s cologne that was lingering on your skin washed off quickly but you tried not to dwell on it. It was obvious you’d be seeing him again. He certainly didn’t seem like the type to give up easily, much like his brothers. You snorted thinking of his last comment. The Emeritus’s were a cocky bunch, but it was with good reason.

You took a deep breath and tried to clear all of the Emeritus brothers out of your mind. It was tough like usual to get all the hairspray washed out of your hair but once you were done you allowed yourself to just relax and lean against the wall. Looking down your body you watched the soap slowly fall over your skin and down onto the tile. Your eyes fell onto your knee like they usually did when there was nothing covering it and it made you wince like always.

It wasn’t so much that you thought it was ugly, to you it was a mark of survival. Not that it was necessarily a life threatening thing. In reality a fall while doing a jump could have gone far, far worse than it did. But landing on your knee had been excruciating. Laying out there on the ice in front of thousands of people had been excruciating. However the two years you had spent rehabbing it had been worse.

The multiple surgeries, the constant appointments for physical therapy… It felt like you had practically lived at the hospital for those two years. But you had been determined to come back from it. You were too young to let your dream go. Your eyes were drawn to your knee like always, to the scars that ran along the sides. The doctor had jokingly said that shorts and short skirts might not be in your future and it had taken so much willpower not to punch him.

Your scars were proof that you had survived the injury. That you hadn’t let it stop you from pursuing what you had been doing since you were a kid. Since you could even stand up on skates. This is what you had always wanted to do, what you had dreamed of. The Winter Olympics were the pinnacle of that dream. You were determined to get on that podium this year. You wanted to show everyone that nothing would stop you from getting there.

Copia’s face appeared in your mind then. You could imagine his smug grin as he teased you. You thought of the way he smelled, the way he covered you in his scent by loaning you his coat. You thought of his body in his uniform, how powerful his legs were. He could probably hold you up easily, maybe push one of his knees between your legs and let you straddle his thick thigh.

Your head fell back against the shower wall, a little zing of pleasure running through you at the thought. Almost absentmindedly you placed your hand on your stomach, rubbing it over your skin in a few circles before letting it slip down further and into the thatch of hair between your legs. You thought of grinding against Copia’s thigh, your feet probably not even touching the ground because he was holding you up so high.

Two of your fingers rubbed tight circles over your clit as you fell deeper into your fantasy. Copia’s fingers were thick, it was obvious even with them hidden under those gloves. They were thick and they’d feel amazing stroking inside of you. You brought your other hand to your cunt and rubbed across your entrance. A moan punched out of you when you pressed two of them inside. There was barely any resistance you were already so turned on just by thinking about Copia doing this to you.

He probably loved to dirty talk, he probably loved describing all the things he planned on doing to you. Your fingers pumped faster imagining the filthy things he would whisper in your year. Things he would do to you if you only asked. You’d more than ask, you’d beg for it if you had to. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you wanted everything. His mouth, his fingers, his cock...

You wanted it all.

The next few days went by in a blur.

Both you and Terzo were focused on practicing for your upcoming events. You each had a short and long program to skate, the combined scores of both decided your final place in the standings. Despite the importance of it all Terzo did manage to skip out a lot to meet up with Omega. You had met him a few times by now as well and you had immediately liked him. He was just the kind of partner Terzo needed. Honestly he was the kind of partner you wanted.

Of course thinking about partners had your stupid mind drifting to Copia. You hadn’t seen him at all since that night, only catching glimpses of his face on the tv screens or the odd magazine laying around the lounge and cafeteria. It wasn’t like you expected to spend all your time with him, but it made that whole night feel surreal. Terzo hadn’t been super helpful about the whole thing. With romance on his brain he had started going on about all these elaborate scenarios featuring you and Copia. Olympic themed dates and Olympic themed gifts.

The Olympic themed wedding talk was the last straw and you had demanded he leave the room for a bit that night. You knew he had planned on doing that anyway, Omega’s team was practicing and watching him play had become Terzo’s favorite new thing. Well, that and fucking him probably. So with the room empty it was time for you to do something you always did before events, especially after your accident at the last Olympic Games. It just wasn’t something you enjoyed in any way, shape or form.

You hated reviewing training footage. It was frustrating going over your previous performances and pinpointing where you had made mistakes. Where you had turned a triple axel into a double. Where you’d missed the timing on a jump. Where you’d stumbled on a landing.

Where you had fallen and nearly destroyed your career.

In your coach’s defense he never made you watch that one again. Rewatching that was something you did on your own. Terzo always hated it and would call it self destructive. That was part of the reason you were alone in your room tonight. He had seen you break out your laptop and left to meet Omega earlier than planned.

You’d been surprised he wasn’t out with Copia celebrating his brother’s win but Terzo had said Copia wasn’t much for celebrating until the games were completely done. Of course when that thought crossed through your mind you immediately blushed. The memory of that night with him was something you had been replaying a lot, especially the ending and the deal you had made.

Before you could talk yourself out of it you searched for the race he was in today, quickly hitting play when it came up. Not surprisingly the announcers were talking about Copia most of the time. Even if it wasn’t his last Olympics he was still the most well known athlete there, the most decorated. You watched as he warmed up and briefly chatted with his fellow racers. He looked so at ease, like he wasn’t about to race his heart out for one of the final times in his career.

You really envied him. He had so much pressure on him but just looking at him smiling on the ice you would think it was just another day. Even though you knew the result you found yourself holding your breath as everyone waited for the race to begin. When they took off Copia easily got to the front, quickly putting distance between himself and the others. The camera stayed on him and you got to see the muscles of his legs flex and move up close. You could see the determination in his eyes, the lights in the arena reflected off both but especially the odd white one his family was all born with.

It was always strange to you when something so important, so pivotal to someone’s career was over in just a few moments. Copia crossed the finish line with ease, one arm pumping briefly into the air as he flashed a dazzling smile to the crowd. The camera panned briefly to where his brothers were seated. Terzo looked ridiculous in his big faux fur coat but it made you smile to see Omega swing an arm over his shoulders. There was more between your friend and the hockey captain than just an “Olympic Village fling”, that was obvious.

Primo looked proud like he always did, no matter how well his younger brothers did in their events. Next to Primo, looking stern but proud, was Secondo. He was dressed in one of his typical three piece suits, clapping and cheering with the crowd. The camera soon panned away and back onto the ice. Copia was standing patiently next to the second and third place winners but you kept noticing his eyes darting out into the stands. You knew he had seen his brothers, family was always seated around the same area, so you were curious who he seemed to be looking for. He almost looked disappointed after taking a final scan of the crowd before being ushered onto the podium.

The thought crossed your mind briefly that he might have been looking for you but that was ridiculous. While Terzo had invited you it had seemed a little too much to go watch Copia’s race. You hadn’t really sorted out exactly what you were feeling towards him. Obviously physical attraction but there was something else there, something that made your insides flutter when you thought about him.

Watching him at the top of the podium, handsome and beaming as the gold medal was slipped over his head didn’t help. He shook hands with the official that gave him the medal and then his fellow athletes before standing tall again. The camera panned up to the Italian flag hanging higher than the others, only going back to Copia when his national anthem started playing.

You watched as his lips moved, mouthing along to the lyrics being played. His makeup was slightly smeared from sweat but it did nothing to detract from his handsome features. When the music swelled he appeared to be full on singing, his throat bobbing as he did so. Your mind went back to when you were walking to the dorms in the snow after watching him practice. His shoulder knocking against yours, his coat warm over your stupid costume and the smell of his cologne embedding itself in your brain.

There was definitely something more there.

An abrupt knock on the door had you pausing the video, the screen freezing right as Copia was looking directly into the camera.

“Who is it?” After no one answered you focused back on the screen again but another set of knocks echoed through the room. You groaned, figuring it might be Terzo trying to get back in. The knocking continued as you unfolded your legs and hopped off your bed. “Terzo I told you to make sure you had your key!”

You unlocked and flung the door open, ready to bitch at your friend some more but the face on the other side was not your roommate.

“Paperina.” Copia’s eyes swept over you, making you immediately self conscious of the old, oversized sweats you were wearing. “No feathers today?”

“Not today, no.” You fiddled with the zipper on your hoodie while you let your eyes wander over him. He was wearing all black, a color that definitely suited him. Your eyes couldn’t help but linger on how his tight jeans clung to his thighs and when you finally glanced up he was pleased as hell about it. “Tomorrow is the short program.”

“Are you ready?”

While you desperately wanted to say no and that you were scared out of your mind you squared your shoulders and gave him the most convincing smile you could manage.

“Yes, yes I am.” You both stood there for a moment in silence, staring at each other. After what seemed like an eternity you finally snapped. “What is it? I’m busy.”

“Are you?” He pushed off from the door jam and looked around you into the room. “Doesn’t seem like there’s much going on.”

“I’m watching my old rout—hey!”

Copia easily walked around you, strolling into the room like he’d been there a hundred times. You glared at his back briefly before deciding to just shut the door. When you turned your eyes looked on, horrified as you watched him look down at your laptop screen, a wild grin breaking out on his face.

“You know Paperina, you could have come today.” He grunted as he dropped onto the bed, stretching out in front of your computer. “I told Terzo to bring you.”

“Like I said,” You stomped over to your bed and grabbed your laptop away from him. “I was busy. Am busy. So you should go.”

Copia sighed as he rolled into his back and tucked his hands under his head.

“I was a little disappointed you didn’t come.” His admission had you freezing next to the little desk you were setting your laptop on. “You could’ve seen the whole thing up close.”

“I told you—“

“Sí, sí. Busy. I can tell.” He was grinning when you spun around to glare at him. “You shouldn’t be cooped up in here all night.”

“I’m not cooped up, I’m getting ready for tomorrow.”

“Paperina, how many times have you done this routine?” He turned onto his side and propped his head up on one hand. “Watching old videos won’t help.”

“Yes, they do. I can see where I messed up and fix it.”

“Weren’t you there though? You know where you made the mistakes already. What does torturing yourself by watching them do?”

“It’s not torture!”

“Then what is it?” His voice was gentle as he watched you, the concern evident as he spoke. “How many times do you need to see them?”

“As many times as it takes.”

“You’re just going to be more nervous for tomorrow.”

“Look, you’re not my coach or a figure skater so don’t come in here trying to tell me how to prepare.”

“Ah yes, what do I know? I just skate in circles.” He groaned as he sat up, his eyes not leaving you. “I do know that dwelling on past mistakes won’t help you. No matter what sport you’re in.”

“Look, I need to watch them.”

“Paperina, you haven’t given me a good enough reason why.”

“Because I can’t fuck up again!” Your eyes stung with the tears building up in them but it was too late to stop now. It felt like the knot that had been building in your chest since the accident four years ago was finally unraveling. “Copia, I can’t. This is my last chance. In four years I’ll be too old to compete against anyone here.”

You weren’t sure how long you stared at each other but it was long enough for your breathing to calm and your tears to fade. As you were about to ask him to go he pushed himself off the bed and clapped his hands together.

“We need to get you out of here.”

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?!”

“Sí, I heard all the bullshit you told me.” He looked around the room, letting out a little noise when he saw his coat hanging off your chair. “We’re going out.”

“No, Copia I can’t.”

“What did you just say? ‘This is your last chance’? That means it’s also your last chance to enjoy yourself here.”

“I am enjoying myself.” When he raised an eyebrow you groaned and shook your head. “What would we even do anyway?”

“Celebrate.” He gave you an exaggerated pout when you just stared at him. “My gold medal isn’t a good enough reason to celebrate? Coming with me is the least you could do Paperina.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saved you a spot and everything. Kept hoping I’d see you in the stands...” Copia sighed dramatically and shook his coat out before he held it up for you. “Remember what we talked about the other night?”

Hopefully the look on your face didn’t make it obvious you had been practically only thinking about that.

“We agreed on after our events.”

“It is after an event though.”

“Yes, one event, Copia! You have three more medals to compete for and I have two skate programs.”

“Just a small celebration then.” You rolled your eyes when he pouted again. “Per favore.”

“How small?”

He grinned and tossed his coat at you before looking around the room. He let out a triumphant noise when he saw your boots, grabbing them and thrusting them at you as well.

“Very small. I know just the place.”

“We can’t be gone long.” He nodded as he rocked back on his heels. “And no funny business.”

“Paperina, I will be completely serious. I won’t even smile.”

You snorted as you dropped your boots and shoved your feet into them. His coat was next and it was as comfortable as you remembered when you pulled it on.

“So. Where are we going?”

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Copia hadn’t stopped smiling as soon as you’d seen where he was taking you. The building hadn’t been too far from the Olympic Village, a few blocks and you found yourself staring up at an old ice rink. You looked on in disbelief as Copia walked up to the glass doors and peered inside. The place was obviously closed but after a few knocks on the door an older man had come up to let you both in.

“You’ve got two hours Emeritus, that’s it.”

“Grazie, plenty of time.” Copia turned and held his hand out for you. “Paperina?”

Copia led you through the building, seemingly unbothered by the lack of lights. His gloved hand was warm and in the dark you let yourself look down at it, trusting him to guide you where he wanted to go. When he gave it a squeeze you looked up, noticing you were in front of the skate rental booth.

“Copia, what are we doing here?”

“What does it look like?” He let go of your hand and walked around the counter, disappearing for a moment before coming back with an armful of ice skates. “Here these should fit.”

“Ice skating is our job! Why would you want to come here on your night off?”

“Because ice skating should be fun and you need to remember that.” He came around the counter and took your hand again. “When was the last time you had fun out on the ice?”

It was startling to you when your mind drew a blank. Even the times you’d been out there practicing with Terzo all you remember feeling was stress. You resisted when he tried to tug you towards the rink.

“What if we get hurt?”

“Don’t do any triple axels and I think you’ll be fine.” When you stayed put as he tried to go to the rink again he sighed. To your surprise he dropped his skates and turned around, coming right into your space and cupping your cheeks. “Paperina, I promise that you will have fun.”

You closed your eyes for a few seconds, letting the heat from his hands and gloves warm your cheeks.

“I want a pretzel.”

Copia let out a bark of laughter, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours.

“I think the concession stand is closed.”

“That’s the price. One pretzel.”

“Okie dokie. I’ll see what I can do.”

You ended up with two pretzels and that fluttering feeling in your chest getting worse.

After banging around trying to first find the pretzels the next problem was sorting out how to heat them. Copia had been attempting to get the little heater rack going when the owner had stomped over with an exasperated look on his face.

“Really, Emeritus?”

“The lady is hungry!”

The man had grabbed the two pretzels and disappeared into the back. While he worked you and Copia had made your way to the rink, throwing your coats over the wall and sitting down to get your skates on. They definitely weren’t as nice as you normally wore and you tried not to think of how clean they might be, but it was actually helping you relax a bit. You hadn’t skated in a rink like this since you were a kid first taking lessons. There was zero pressure here, just you and the ice.

Well…Copia and his thighs too.

It was unfair how good he looked in those jeans. You tried not to stare but that only ended with your eyes wandering elsewhere. He had some random band tee over a long sleeve shirt. His gloves were still on as well as the dark gray scarf he’d been wearing since he showed up at your door. He looked good, he probably looked good in everything. He probably looked really good in noth—

“Here’s your damn pretzels.”

You grabbed them when the owner thrusted them in front of your face, setting one down next to you and biting into the other. He and Copia appeared to be having a somewhat heated conversation but you chose to ignore it and focus on your food. Copia was right, you needed to enjoy your time here. And not just here at the rink but during the entire two weeks the Olympics were going on. You were so lucky to have this chance and while you didn’t want to mess it up, you also wanted to look back on it fondly no matter what happened.

“Okie dokie, two hours!”

Copia plopped down next to you, grabbing the second pretzel and taking a bite.

“Hey that’s mine!”

“These actually aren’t bad, Paperina.” You took a big bite of your own and glared at him. “Not going to help me get into my suit tomorrow but eh, oh well.”

“You’ll still look good, don’t worry.” As soon as you realized what you said you froze, sneaking a glance at him and sighing when you saw his grin. “Don’t.”

“You’ll look good too. Bellissima.” He shoved the rest of the pretzel in his mouth and then pulled the skates on. “I can’t wait to see you in those feathers again.”

“Wait, you’re coming?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You hid your pleased smile by leaning down and getting the skates on although when you sat up he was still watching you. “It’s the next event anyway, I’ll want to collect on our deal.”

“Technically the short program is part of one event, one medal. I still have the long program.”

Copia walked in front of you and held his hands out, a gesture you were getting used to. When he had pulled you up and helped steady you on the unfamiliar skates he leaned in closer, his handsome face taking up your vision.

“I think we can bend the rules a bit again, don’t you?”

Being on the ice with Copia was a blast.

While you both agreed on no racing or jumping it wasn’t long before you were squealing and shoving your way past him to get to the end of the rink first. Luckily you were both still getting used to the new skates, in Copia’s case they were a lot different than his usual ones so it gave you a good advantage. Your triumphant whoop at hitting the end of the rink before him was drowned out by you screeching when he grabbed you and dug his fingers into your sides.

“No! Copi—ahh! Stop, stop!” You were laughing despite your frantic protests. Finally pushing him away and out of reach. “You’re just jealous I’m better on the ice than you.”

“Paperina, if I had my regular skates on I’d be able to lap you twice before you hit the end.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, handsome.”

You skated away so you wouldn’t have to see his smug grin but also to hide your blush. There really wasn’t a point in hiding your attraction to him anymore, but that didn’t mean you needed to make it easy on him. You were nearly half the rink away from him when you heard him coming up behind you. The sounds of his blades sliding across the ice was loud and you weren’t surprised to see him blow by you. But instead of turning the corner to show off his speed he suddenly threw his arms out and then leapt into the air, executing a near perfect jump, spinning and landing with a flourish.

Copia stayed where he was as you skated up to him with a stunned look on your face. You were both surprised and irritated he had managed to pull it off so well. Of course you’d seen his brother do it plenty of times but that was his area of expertise. Copia wasn’t a figure skater.

“How…how did you…?”

“Do you need me to show you how the move works?” He held up his hands when you glared at him. “I grew up with Terzo, Paperina. I’d practice with him sometimes.”

“‘Sometimes’ huh?” You shook your head in disbelief, beginning to skate closer to him. “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Kissing.”

His answer startled you enough you tried to stop and ended up losing your balance. Copia’s hands shooting out and grabbing you around your waist were the only thing that kept you upright. You found yourself placing your hands on his shoulders as his own slid further around you and rested at the small of your back.

“Kissing?”

“Sí. I’m terrible at it.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a shame.” He nodded solemnly, the twinkle in his eyes the only thing giving away the joke. “You should try to get some practice in.”

“Will you help me, Paperina?”

You wanted to say yes, you wanted to shout yes. But you really didn’t need to say anything, it was obviously what you both wanted right then. You leaned in at the same time as Copia, your lips touching gently against each other for only a moment before the movements became more intense. Copia kept one arm around your waist but the other he slid up to cradle the back of your head. You wrapped your own arms around his neck and pushed your fingers into his hair. When he urged your head to tilt to the side his mouth opened over yours and you let out a tiny moan when his tongue pushed inside.

As you flicked your own tongue against his you pressed yourself as close to him as possible. Kissing on ice skates was definitely not ideal and you nearly bit his tongue when he tugged you closer and you almost fell. Copia pulled away with a growl, both of his hands going down to grip your ass as he gently pushed you backwards. You couldn’t take your eyes off his already swollen lips but when your back hit the side of the rink you glanced up to meet his mismatched gaze.

He took his hands off your ass and used one to cup your face, the other pressed against the concrete wall that was on one side of the rink. It looked like he was going to say something but thought better of it, his mouth lowering once more to yours. This kiss was immediately hot and dirty, your tongues fighting each other for some unknown prize. A deep groan vibrated in his chest when you nipped and sucked on his and he pressed his body even harder against yours.

When you started to lose your footing on the ice again Copia shoved his knee between your legs, pushing it against the wall. He gripped your hips with both hands and lifted you, propping you up so his strong thigh was basically the only thing keeping you upright. The muscle pressing against you and the heat from his leg along with the friction against your core had you whimpering into his mouth. Copia pulled his mouth away from you and leaned his forehead against yours once more.

“I knew you’d be like this.” He tugged your hips back and forth to rub you against him even more deliciously and you panted into his mouth. “So responsive for me. I bet you’re already wet too.”

“What about you?” Copia groaned when you reached down and rubbed his hardening dick through his jeans. “Looks like I’m not the only one.”

With a growl he kissed you again, nipping at your lips and tongue. His mustache tickled your skin and you knew you’d have to apply extra makeup tomorrow to hide the redness. Honestly you didn’t care what he did at the moment, you just wanted him to keep kissing you. You had one arm wrapped around his neck for balance but you pushed your other hand back into his hair, scratching at his scalp and enjoying the way he groaned at the contact. When Copia pulled one hand off your hip you expected to feel it delve into your own hair but instead his warm palm covered your breast and it was your turn to groan when he rubbed his thumb across your hardening nipple.

If it wasn’t for the sudden blast of music blaring across the speakers you probably would have let him fuck you right there on the ice. Copia pulled away, a violent series of Italian curses falling from his lips. Thankfully he helped keep you steady because at the moment your legs were in no shape to keep you on your feet. You chose to cling to his shirt and bury your face in his chest to try to catch your breath as you felt him jerk his head around looking for the culprit. When the music stopped you heard the voice of the owner over the intercom.

“Time’s up Emeritus! Take the lady to bed at least!”

You snorted against Copia, smiling when you heard him laugh too. He was keeping a firm grip on you, one hand rubbing up and down your back when he felt you shiver. It had little to do with the cold though. Your body was still coming down from the pleasure that had built up inside of you and when you moved you could feel Copia was still slightly hard. He hissed when you moved against him again.

“Quit that, we have an audience.”

“You started it.”

He laughed again, cupping your face so he could tilt it up and you could meet his eyes.

“I didn’t hear any complaints from you. Just “Oh Copia, yes Copia. Hey!” He barely caught his balance when you pushed him away, his arms flailing wildly as you started skating towards the exit. You had just placed a hand on the wall to step out of the rink when he came up behind you, his hands finding your hips and pulling you back against him so he could lean down and whisper into your ear. “You will be saying that to me eventually, Paperina. I promise you.”

He helped you step out of the rink, his hand not leaving the small of your back until you were at the bench where your things were. Copia knelt down in front of you and batted your hands away so he could untie your laces and slip the skates off your feet. You flexed them when they were free, happy to have them out of the unfamiliar skates. When Copia took your right foot in his hand you gasped. It turned into a quiet moan when he began to dig his thumbs into the sole and massage the tightness out.

“Oh! Right there.” You bit your lip to try to keep all the noises you wanted to make from escaping. Copia’s fingers were magic, not that you should be surprised. “Yes, Copia that’s perfect.”

“See? Only took a few minutes.”

When you realized what he meant you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his antics. He switched to your other foot with a grin and gave it the same attention before finally pulling away to get his own skates off. The owner was waiting for you at the front and thankfully didn’t say anything as you slipped by. You knew your hair was probably a mess, not to mention how swollen your lips were. At least the coat Copia had on was long enough to cover his crotch. By how stiff he was walking it was obvious he was still a little hard and you smiled smugly as you walked ahead of him.

“You owe me Emeritus.”

“Sí, sí.” Copia finished talking to the owner and then jogged to catch up with you, quickly grabbing your hand when he did. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into him a bit, especially with the air having gotten colder. “So, did you have fun?”

“It was ok.”

When he gasped dramatically you tucked your head into his arm for a moment to try and warm up your nose. He clicked his tongue and stopped, tugging at his scarf to release it. When he started wrapping it around your neck you suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes. The act felt intimate, much more so than what had just happened in the rink. Copia leaned in to kiss your cold nose when he was done.

“I’m going to have to buy more clothes soon if you keep taking them all.” You were about to respond when you noticed a familiar looking ribbon under the color of his shirt. Copia caught you looking and smiled, grabbing it and then pulling it out so you could see. The gold medal he earned that day shone under the streetlamp and you tentatively reached out to touch it. “You don’t get this one, Paperina.”

“You’re right, I’ll be getting my own soon.”

He grinned, shoving the medal back under his shirt and then taking your hand again. The walk back to the village was quiet. The only sounds coming from the snow crunching under your shoes and the occasional conversations from people passing you by. The lounge was still busy despite the hour and Copia kept you close as crowds of athletes moved around you both. He didn’t let go of your hand when you got into the elevator or even when you got to the door of your room, giving it a quick squeeze as you shoved your key into the door.

“Is Terzo here?”

“No, he said he’d be staying with Omega tonight.”

“Ah, young love.” You smiled, looking down at your hand in his until another squeeze had you meeting his eyes. “Will you be ok by yourself, Paperina?”

“I will lock my door and not let any strangers in, I promise.”

“Tsk, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want you ah, ‘reviewing the tapes’.”

You winced, feeling a little guilty because for some reason you had debated on doing that. But no, Copia was right. That wasn’t going to do you any good.

“Nope, straight to bed for me.”

It was on the tip of your tongue to invite him in and the more you thought about it the more you wanted it to happen. But it was already late and there was no way you’d get any sleep with Copia in bed with you. He gave you a small smile before bringing his free hand to his mouth and tugging his glove off with his teeth. When he was done he brought it to his scarf and started to tug it loose from your neck. You thought he was going to pull it off at first but he just pushed it away enough so he could cup your cheek. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and you couldn’t help but stick your tongue out and touch his skin. Copia groaned and crowded you back against the door.

“I’m trying to be good and follow your rules here but you are making it very difficult.”

“You already broke the rules by coming here in the first place.”

“Eh, more like adjusted them a bit.” He sucked his full bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes dropped to your own lips. “It was worth it though, sÍ?”

“Yes, thank you for doing this.”

Copia smiled and dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“We’ll get to do this again tomorrow night, yeah? After your event?”

“I told you, it’s just the short program. There’s no medal tomorrow.”

“But it’s important. Right?” When you nodded he cocked his head to the side for a moment. “Fifth place or better.”

“What?”

“Your scores, if you get fifth place or better we’ll have another date.”

You thought about it for a moment and then nodded. Fifth place or higher would put you in a good position before your long program later in the week. Your combined scores, as long as you skated well, would put you in contention for a medal. You desperately wanted gold but you were starting to realize any medal would be amazing. A great achievement after your injury and the long recovery. You just wanted on that podium, that’s all. It was doable and after tonight with Copia you felt like you’d make it up there.

As long as you skated well.

“Fifth place or better. I can do that.”

“You will do that, Paperina.” He squeezed your hand one last time before letting go. “I’ll be there to cheer you on.”

“Oh, Copia no. You don’t have to do that.”

“I actually do, Primo is making me. Ai!” He grunted when your fist connected with his shoulder, laughing and grabbing your hand when you tried to do it again. His mustache tickled the back of it when he dropped a kiss there. Copia grinned as he dropped your hand, reaching out to tap the tip of your nose. “Besides, there’s something important I have to see.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

He moved back a few steps and winked, the grin still fixed on his face.

“Those feathers in action.”

To say you were worried was an understatement.

You just needed to get above fifth, that’s all. Fifth or higher and you had a chance just like Copia had said, just like you had been repeating in your head all morning. Hardly anyone came back from a lower place than that after the short program. It’s not that you would give up if you got below fifth, but getting a medal at these games would be near impossible at that point. So. Fifth or better.

Terzo had managed third, a fact that he had been crowing about since it happened. The men had skated that morning and while you should have been practicing you ignored your coach’s recommendation and came to watch Terzo perform. Omega and Secondo both had games that morning so it had been just you and Primo. The eldest brother had probably been the loudest out of anyone else in the crowd as Terzo worked his ass off skating to his music.

To the surprise of no one Terzo had chosen an ABBA song.

“Paperina, you look nervous.”

At Copia’s voice you jumped, nearly losing your balance. He reached out and grabbed your hands, not letting go until you were steady again on your feet. You quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen you but thankfully everyone was busy either talking to the skater that had just performed or cleaning the rink. When you looked back at Copia he was grinning.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was going to come.”

“Yes but you should be in the stands, not back here.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, reaching out and fingering one of the feathers at your waist. You had another quick look around, wincing when you saw your coach glaring at you. “Quit that.”

He hissed when you slapped his hand away from your costume and shoved his hands into his pockets. A reporter sidled closer and you sighed. It would have been easy to spot Copia even if he wasn’t wearing a bright green, white and red tracksuit that didn’t say Italy all over it. You wondered what story the reporter would come up with.

“Remember, fifth or higher.”

“Yes, yes I know.”

“But first is better, yeah?” He brought a hand up to his neck and pulled his medal out from yesterday, the gold catching on all the bright lights in the arena. “You see? Gold.”

“It’s not actually gold you moron.” The reporter was definitely interested now and you noticed another one whose interest had been piqued. “Put that thing away.”

“Fine, fine. You’ll be begging to see it later though.”

“I will scratch your eyes out if you wink at me again.”

“You’re very aggressive, Paperina. Is it the nerves?” He reached out and grabbed one of your hands, rubbing his thumb back and forth along the back. “What do you have to be nervous about? You’re going to do amazing.”

You stopped glaring at the reporters and met Copia’s eyes. His gaze was steady as he watched you, his thumb still rubbing your hand. He was wearing gloves like usual, these ones black leather and the material was warm against your cold skin. You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders.

“I’m not nervous.” He smiled and gave your hand a squeeze before letting go. “I can do this.”

“I know you can.”

You nodded, trying to give him a confident smile and hoping you pulled it off. When you glanced back out over the ice it was empty and the announcers were gearing up for your routine. Your coach popped up in the corner of your eye and took a deep breath trying to clear your head. This was it. You hadn’t spent years preparing for this to blow it at the last moment. Before you headed over to your coach you looked back at Copia and tried to give him a confident smile.

“Wish me luck.”

“I would say ‘break a leg’ but that would be very bad, don’t do that.” He just laughed when you glared at him. Copia took a quick look around before stepping forward so no one else would hear him. “I want to celebrate with you later, Paperina. Don’t mess it up.”

You sighed when you heard a few cameras click, knowing they caught the intimate moment. Copia didn’t seem to care, turning to give the photographers a smile before looking back at you. The announcers called your name and your coach came up to urge you toward the rink. With one last look at Copia you moved away and took a deep steadying breath.

Messing up wasn’t an option, you wanted to celebrate with him too.

You ended up third.

When the music had ended and you stood out there in your final position you had been so overcome with emotion. So much hard work, so many long hours and now it was finally over with. Well, at least the short program was. You’d be back out there for the long skate in a few days. That was something to worry about later though, preferably tomorrow. Tonight you planned on celebrating and pushing all your other worries out of your mind.

You also planned on burning this damn costume too.

As flowers and stuffed animals rained down on the ice you eagerly skated off and were quickly whisked away by your coach. Then came the usual song and dance of watching the judges post your scores, more screaming and crying and finally giving a few interviews to the various reporters milling about. By the time you were done with it all the last skater had competed and you had gotten the confirmation about your third place finish. The sense of relief you felt followed you all the way to the locker room where you quickly threw your track suit over your costume, grabbed your things and headed out.

Right as you were messing with your phone to try and see where Terzo had gone off to a pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind and you were lifted off the ground.

“Amica mia! You did it!” You let Terzo swing you around a bit before spinning in his arms and hugging him back. “I told you!”

Your emotions were getting the best of you so you just clung to your friend a little tighter for a moment, feeling so thankful for him. You didn’t let go until a throat cleared nearby and when you looked to who had made the noise you were met with Copia’s pleased smile.

“Well done Paperina.” You smiled back, fighting the urge to run into his arms. Your adrenaline was still high from performing and it felt like electricity was sparking along your skin. With Copia’s eyes on you the feeling was even stronger. “I knew you could do it.”

“Thank you Copia.” When he pulled an arm from behind his back you felt your cheeks pink at the rose he held in his hand. You pulled away from Terzo and shyly walked over to take it from Copia’s fingers, your own twitching a bit when they made contact with his warm gloves. “Did you buy this or pick it up off the rink?”

“I stole it from that idiot that got first.” He grinned when you rolled your eyes. “Should’ve been you, Paperina.”

“What did you call her?” Copia shot his brother a glare and you turned around to look at Terzo. “Paperina?”

“Zitto, Terzo!”

“Wait, what’s going on?” You looked from brother to brother, Terzo looked on the verge of laughter while Copia just continued to glare at him. “It’s just because of my costume, Terzo. Swan Lake.”

“SÍ, but Paperina doesn’t me–hey, what the fuck?!” Terzo snarled at Copia after being hit in the head with the stuffed bear. “She’ll find out eventually!”

“Find out what?” When neither brother said anything you growled and walked over to your things. “Whatever, I’m going back to my room.”

“No, wait!” You stopped when Terzo called out, raising an eyebrow when he gave you a sheepish look. “I was actually hoping to have the room to myself tonight.”

“Oh come on! Where am I supposed to sleep then?”

Both you and Terzo turned to stare at Copia when he cleared his throat.

“You can stay with me, Paperina.” There was that fluttering again, your heart feeling like it was skipping a beat or two. He wandered over to where the bear had landed and then came to exchange it for your gear bag. “Didn’t I say we’d be celebrating?”

Copia’s mouth was latched onto your neck before the door to his room was closed.

“No, no–ah! No marks. Not where people can see them.”

He pulled away with a growl, capturing your mouth again instead. As his tongue roughly toyed with yours he brought a hand to your thigh and lifted your leg up to wrap around his waist. It gave him enough room to start grinding against you, his sweatpants doing little to hide his hard cock. You whimpered when it pressed between your legs, the thin material of your tights doing little to block yourself from him.

“I could probably sink into you right now, couldn’t I?” You nodded weakly, thunking your head back against the door when he ground even harder against you. “I could rip these tights open and have you screaming my name.”

“Yes! Copia please.”

You could see him smirking through your half lidded eyes, the intense pleasure of him rubbing against your cunt making it hard to keep them open. His hands started fiddling with your skirt, the feathers rustling as he pushed it higher up your stomach.

“Will you be wearing this again?”

“What?” You blinked at his question, not sure what he was getting at. “What do you mean?”

“I’m about to rip it off of you, is that ok Paperina?” He was barely done with his question before you were vigorously nodding your head. With a growl he had his hands at the top of your tights and the room filled with the sound of ripping fabric. You shivered when the cool air hit your exposed flesh, moaning when he dragged a bare finger through your cunt. “Cazzo, so wet for me already.”

He added a second finger, rubbing them up and down between your lips. The slick sounds of them moving seemed so loud you were worried that anyone walking down the hallway would hear it. When they teased at your entrance you let out a loud gasp, a loud bang echoing around you when your head fell back against the door again.

People would definitely have heard that.

“You are so responsive, so beautiful.” The tips of his fingers pushed into you slightly before pulling out. He repeated the motion over and over again, going deeper each time. “I can’t wait to fuck you with my cock.”

“Then do it. I want it.”

Copia growled and slammed his mouth against yours right as he pushed his fingers in as far as they’d go. You moaned into his mouth, thankful that it muffled you at least a little bit. His fingers worked in and out of you hard and fast as he kissed you heatedly. You wrapped your arms tight around his neck, pushing up on your toes a bit so the angle of his thrusting fingers was a little better. He started rubbing them harder against your inner walls, catching at the spot inside of you that had you pulling away from his mouth and nearly wailing in pleasure.

“Just this tonight, we still have a few events left after all.” He kissed you again, this time the kiss a little softer but no less passionate. As his fingers on one hand continued to fuck you he brought his other hand close and started rubbing his thumb against your clit. “It will be worth the wait.”

“It bet–oh, oh it better be.”

“Trust me, Paperina. I’ll make sure it is.”

You couldn’t do anything else but nod, the pleasure becoming nearly unbearable as you reached your peak. He knew exactly how to work you, exactly when to apply more pressure and where. Your fingers buried themselves in his hair as your climax hit, your mouth open in a mostly silent cry against his shoulder. It took a few moments for you to come back to yourself and when you did it was to Copia making quiet moaning sounds.

When you blinked your eyes open you looked down to see his hand flying over his cock. The sight of it had more little thrills of pleasure rippling through you. He whispered your name and you looked back up at his face, meeting his odd eyes. You slipped a hand off his shoulder and moved it down to his cock, wrapping your fingers around the head as he continued to pump his shaft. His moans became louder as you both worked him over until his cock twitched between you, his hot cum shooting out the tip.

Copia cursed quietly in Italian as you stroked him through it, making sure every last drop left him. It had dripped onto his pants and you noticed streaks across the feathers of your costume. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the sight, instead moving to press a deep kiss into Copia’s lips. He hummed happily into your mouth as you tangled your tongue with his briefly before pulling away, his lips curled up in a familiar smug smile. You glanced down at yourself and his eyes followed, looking over the ripped tights and the cum stained feathers. When he let out a wistful sigh you put a finger on his chin to tip his head back up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, Paperina.” He shrugged and then leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose. “I’m just going to miss this costume.”

Part Two Coming Soon! (leave me a comment if you'd like to be tagged 💙)

I wrote a little ficlet describing Terzo and Omega's meeting as well: Shooting His Shot

A/N: Did I write this because I became obsessed with the thought of Copia's thick thighs in a tight speed skating outfit? Yes, obviously. I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you'd like to see more from this little universe💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#my fics #my writing #cardinal copia x female reader #copia x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #cardinal copia fanfiction #copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic #copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader

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borealalice · 1 month

Text

Valentino finds him crouched against the wall of the motorhome that they share with Honda on the other side, still seething with white hot rage after yelling at Márquez. Screaming at him had done nothing to get the anger out of his system, and then he’d heard Marc telling the press he wasn’t even going to bother discussing Marco’s outburst, and now he’s trying very hard to calm down before he goes to congratulate Pecco. His brother doesn’t deserve that kind of negativity, and right now, Marco wants to kill somebody.

Vale crouches in front of him, one of his big hands finding the curls on the back of Marco’s head. “Ben detto” he murmurs softly. “It’s not your fault, he clearly hasn’t changed at all.”

Marco scrapes his hands over his face, wincing at his nose. “He didn’t even react when I screamed at him. Just stared, and then told someone else to remove me from his motorhome.” His fists clench. “And then he says he’s not going to waste time discussing me! Figlio de puttana!”

Vale ruffles his hair. “I’ve been telling you, he’s a crazy motherfucker. He’ll never learn.”

“Hey!” A voice he doesn’t recognize rings out on the other side of the wall.

“Hey, man, ¿qué pasa?.” That one, he’d know anywhere.

“Classy move out there today, completely sidestepping the questions.” It’s not a driver. Someone from the Honda team, probably.

Márquez snorts. “Bezzecchi is what, 23?” He must be changing out of his leathers. They’ve clearly not realised that there’s someone left on the motorhome next door, because they’re making no effort to lower their voices to avoid being heard through the paper-thin walls.

“24, I think.” Says the other voice. He’s almost 25, actually. He rolls his eyes at Vale. What does it matter that he’s young? He has half a mind to go back in there and yell at him some more. Fuck him. Youth does not mean he’s not legitimate competition, or a good driver.

“Eh, still barely an adult.” Márquez again. “Everybody is a fucking idiot in their twenties, but I’m no longer in my twenties. I know how this circus works now, and what would happen if I said anything personal about him to the press. I don’t mind giving my opinion on what he’s done on the race, or what I think he’s done on the race, but anything beyond that is a no, even if he’s a dickhead.” He pauses. Then adds, softer. “Actually, I don’t think he’s a dickhead. He’s just young, and we have both heard everything he said today before, and we both know they’re not his words. I can’t fault the kid for following a god blindly, I used to do it too.”

The world tilts three degrees on its axis. Valentino’s face goes white as a sheet.

“Look at you. Is this what maturity looks like?”

Márquez’s laugh sounds bitter. “I already said it in my documentary, but I don’t wish what Valentino put me through at 22 on anybody. 22 is a stupid age. You think you’re immortal, but you also think you’ll die if you don’t win this championship. Or not die, but the team will drop you if you stop performing, which is just as bad. There’s always someone behind you waiting to get on your bike, if you can’t stay on it. Your body can recover from almost everything, but the press and the team are already counting down the seconds until it gives out. It's an environment where it’s almost impossible to make good decisions, especially in the middle of a race where you’re going 300km/h, your only thought is that you have to be 1st, and you have 2 milliseconds to see and react to anything.” Something opens on the other side of the wall.

“You must still be angry at him. Especially after everything you heard today.”

There’s no need to clarify who “him” is. It’s clearly not Marco.

Something closes. “I’m not even angry anymore, more like. Disappointed? Disappointed with Valentino, because he was supposed to be my friend but he thought badly enough of me to believe that I’d do all those things he accused me of. Didn’t even let me explain. But also disappointed in myself, because it really is the worst feeling when you are just being yourself and your idol, friend, favourite person” - Marco can’t look at Valentino - “in the world publicly says that makes you a danger for everyone and poison for the sport you have dedicated your life to. And suddenly everybody despises you. You don’t just shrug something like that off, no matter how hard I’ve tried to pretend I have.”

There’s a metallic thunk, like someone dropping a bag on a bench.

“I can only be myself. I’ve never learned to be any other way, and I will never play mind games. I want to keep winning until I physically can’t anymore, and then retire and be done with all of this.”

“Are you going to set up your own training academy?” Suggests the other man, timidly.

There’s a meaningful pause.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the documentary, but only two drivers came to see me before I got the surgery. A surgery that involved re-breaking my arm on several points and rotating the bone. There was a chance I might never come back to motogp, and most people didn’t care, not even my own teammate. And even younger drivers like Bezzecchi clearly believe everything that has been said of me, after all these years and after riding with me. I don’t think I will have any kind of legacy other than a number of championships and a bad reputation for my riding style. And a lot of scars and metal in my body. I don't think mentoring will ever be a possibility. I don’t think I want to teach anyone how to ride like me, when this is what it gets you.”

Marco can feel his own face drain of blood. There’s no emotion to Márquez's voice. He’s clearly thought this over plenty. It sounds practised, rehearsed, and utterly sincere.

“You still said very nice things about Rossi in a recent video, even after all of this.”

“I told the truth.” Comes Márquez’s response. “They ask what I think about him as a driver, and that has never changed. He’s the best. Always the best.”

He sounds as certain as anything. The sky is blue, the sun is yellow, and Valentino Rossi is still the best ever MotoGP driver in Marc Márquez’s world.

Valentino’s face is doing something so raw that Marco feels filthy when he hazards a look. He averts his eyes again.

“As I said, I’m not even mad. I would be happy if he decided to stop hating me one of these days. I still like Valentino. I think what he’s done with the academy is great, the way he’s basically adopted those kids. I try not to think much about him other than that.”

He sounds wistful, Marco realises, like part of him wishes he could have been one more of them at the ranch. Like part of him envies that they got that with Vale.

“Except when one of said kids goes to your motorhome to yell at you.”

Marc snorts again. “Hm, maybe he should have taught them better manners, that’s true. But he’s Valentino Rossi. We wouldn’t like him half as much if he had manners.” And with that, the voices finally fade, Márquez clearly done changing. And then it’s just him and Valentino, still crouched on the floor on the other side of the wall.

Valentino looks ill. Properly green, and Marco understands, because he’s feeling queasy himself when he thinks of everything he’d yelled at Marc only hours earlier, everything he has said about him loud enough for everyone to hear.

Valentino has approximately eight years of that.

God help them both.

#I have been on my Rosquez feelings so I had to engineer a situation where Valentino has no choice but to confront his sins head on #and then grapple with the realization of how much irreparable damage he’s dealt Marc #marc/vale #rosquez #realistically would Marc ever bare himself like this? Absolutely not #but let’s pretend that Bezz yelling at him in Valencia caused a weak moment and the jagged edge was visible for a millisecond

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little-diable · 1 year

Text

Stream - Finan x Reader x Sihtric (smut)

Besties, y'all need to hype this up, since there aren't many active TLK readers on here currently. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: pwp, the three of them fuck in a stream close to Winchester, set in S2E6

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected vip, handjob, sex in the stream so somewhat public

Pairing: Finan x fem!reader x Sithtric (1.2k words)

Winchester was busy, people kept running around, chatting about the upcoming wedding of Æthelred and Æthelflæd, excited about the following celebrations, all too oblivious to the danger waiting ahead. (Y/n) was sitting on the stairs in front of Finan and Sihtric, not sparing much attention to the words Æthelwold tried to share with Uhtred. She had her shoulders pressed against Finan’s knees, eyes closed to enjoy the way her lover kneaded her aching shoulders, trying to work on the pain lingering inside her body.

“Come, the king’s waiting.” (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered open to follow Uhtred’s frame disappearing, giving the others a few moments of silence. While the monk that had found its way to them moments ago now disappeared within the crowd, Æthelwold also left the others behind, probably finding comfort in the nearest alehouse.

“So, what shall we do?” Finan’s voice echoed through the air, eyes flickering between (y/n) and Sihtric. A smile tugged on the woman’s lips, rising to her feet with a small groan rumbling through her.

“How about a bath? We should make use of the calmness before it escalates, and I think we all know it won’t take long for something to happen.” With both her hands reached out for her two lovers to take, (y/n) dragged them through the city, mind set on a nearby stream she had found the last time they'd been here.

“I think our lady here is just trying to get us out of our leather.” Sihtric’s laugh overpowered the clicking of (y/n)’s tongue, slightly shaking her head as she let go of their hands, coming to halt in front of the stream. The water looked all too clear in the sun, shielded from any curious eyes, giving them the calmness their minds had been aching for.

The three of them started undressing, eyes shut to enjoy the cold water clinging to their bodies, washing away the dirt and sweat of the past days. For a few moments none of them dared to speak up, basking in one another’s company, in the sweet sounds of nature, and the quiet stories the rushing by water told.

Finan’s wandering hands started to break the peace, pulling (y/n) against his chest to press a few kisses against her now cool skin. A soft moan broke through the female warrior, eyes still closed to focus on her lover’s touch, not noticing the look of mischief Finan shot Sihtric, watching him move closer. Sihtrics hands moved up her sides, cupping her breasts to leave a few kisses along them, softly sucking on her hardening nubs.

Her eyes fell open, eyes catching Sihtric’s glistening ones, not breaking eye contact once, not even as Finan’s hand found its way between their bodies, cupping her heat. She was dripping for her lovers, desperate to be filled by them, to pleasure one of them with her hand, while the other would take her like they’d done hours ago, in the quiet hours of the night.

“Your body’s aching for us, eh?” She could only moan to reply to the words Finan murmured into her ear, skilled fingers brushing through her folds. With trembling fingers (y/n) found Sihtric’s chin, pulling him up to meet her lips in a teeth-clashing kiss, tongues battling for victory. (Y/n)’s moans and the satisfied groans of her lovers broke the calmness of the afternoon, echoing through the air as if they were holding their own celebration, clinging to one another in hopes of being able to stay like this forever.

“Need you, please, I need more.” Her words were murmured against Sihtric’s lips, making a smirk widen on them.

“You hear that, Finan? So desperate for us.” Sihtric pressed one last kiss against her lips before his eyes met Finan’s, wordlessly communicating their next movements. Her hand was brought to Sihtric’s twitching cock, while Finan brushed his through her folds from behind, coating himself in her arousal. She was pulled in for another bruising kiss as Finan pushed into her from behind, forcing her walls to spread.

Trembling hands struggled to pump Sihtric’s cock, mind and body distracted by the feeling of Finan taking her from behind. Sihtric’s hand helped her move, unable to bite down his smirk as he watched her tremble between them, still not used to being touched like that, even after months of sharing her body and soul with the two men.

“I bet the gods are jealous of me right now, what a sight.” Heat flushed through her at Sihtric’s words, unable to pick up on the words Finan murmured, swallowed by the moan breaking through the man. Her walls clenched around his cock, already close, not able to drag out the moment much longer.

Sihtric’s cock twitched in her grasp, head rolling back to expose his neck further to her wandering eyes, enjoying the way she tightened her grip on him. The three lovers were a tangled mess of moans and groans, unable to hold back as they pushed themselves further and further towards the edge, about to cum together.

(Y/n) was the first to let go, eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm rocked through her, forcing her to struggle with the pumping motion of her hand, needing Sihtric’s help once again. The men followed her down the edge moments later, cum painting her walls and her stomach white, leaving their stain on her as if it was the first time they were claiming her. All three of them were heavily panting, clinging to one another for a few more moments before they parted, desperate for another dip.

“I love you.” Sihtric whispered the words as he pulled (y/n) in for a kiss, not letting her go yet, unable to trust her quivering limbs. She replied the loving three words with her hand cupping his cheek, laughing in surprise as Finan picked her up, pulling her away from Sihtric to squeeze her sides, forcing another love confession from her lips, desperate to word out the way he loved her.

And with the sun burning down on the three lovers, they found some peace in its warmth and company, momentarily able to forget about the struggles laying ahead.

#sihtric x reader x finan #sihtric smut #finan smut #the last kingdom imagine #the last kingdom #finan x reader #sihtric x reader

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yestrday · 7 months

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hii!!

dk if you write for alhaitham (if not diluc is okay), but for the humiliation prompts, can we please see him beg? thank you!!

ANOTHER BEG PROMPT.... there was so many but all yall wanna see is them begging... whats up guys... whatsup... also, this is way more tame and fluffy than the others hehe. surprise surprise!

part of an ongoing event!

╰┈➤ ALHAITHAM admonishing instruction.

"... you know i'm your senior, right? you ought to have more respect for me."

your junior tears his gaze away from his book and regards you for a second.... before returning back to reading. you can feel your eye twitch at his blatant disrespect. stupid haitham and his stupid handsome face! you would've hated him sooner if it wasn't for those archon-sculpted features, but instead you find yourself at an impasse between wanting to clock him and kissing him.

"haitham, please!" you yell impatiently. "we need to get this paper done today! i don't have any other time this week!"

"just do what you can do right now and i'll finish it up later," haitham cooly says. "it won't be optimal if i write with you and you nitpick at every detail."

"i know damn well you'll just rewrite everything if you do that," you huff. "come on, haitham. just cooperate with me this once! exactly what could be so interesting about that book to have you this invested?"

if he were any older, haitham might have deflected the question like it was second nature. but this haitham was just little into his late teens, more inexperienced in dealing with others, and more awkward than he'd like to admit. you eye him interestedly when he freezes up and the knuckles on his book tense. "nothing," he says, too stiffly for persuasion. "none of your concern."

... time to strike.

a wolfish grin makes its way on your face. "you know, when people say that something's 'nothing,' then it's probably worth reading." you lean on the table with your hands cupping your face, eyes watching his whole body stiffen under your gaze. "what's this 'nothing,' eh, sweet junior of mine?"

he averts his eyes from you, and your eyes sparkle at this newfound weakness. before he can even have a chance to react, you swiftly pluck the book out of his hands and open to the page he's been staring so hard at.

... i'm having a difficult time focusing whenever i'm near my senior. they're intelligent, but they're terribly irritating, and their voice is grating on my ears. recently, we've been paired for a paper, and it's hard to concentrate whenever they're breathing down my neck about some nuisance or another. i'm above such base perversion... or i'd like to think so. but these nights i can't sleep without—

"e-enough!" haitham hissed, reaching for the book before you hide it between your thighs. his hand stutters and retreats before he touches such an... inappropriate place, and you send him another shit-eating grin. "[y. name], this is highly disrespectful—!"

"oh?" you raise a brow at him, leaning on the table as you rest your cheek on your fist. "so now you want to talk about respect. especially when you were the one writing such filthy things about me in your little diary." you squish the leather-bound thing between your things, and haitham gulps when he glances nervously at it. "maybe if you beg me, i'll give it back to you, hm?"

he turns scarlet, in anger or in embarrassment you don't know, but it's an interesting color on him. you watch eagerly as his mouth gawps open, lips forming words he can't bring himself to vocalize. after a brief internal struggle, he seems resigned. "[y. name], please, just give me—"

you lean back in dissatisfaction. "[y. name]?" you echo incredulously.

he swallows— both spit and pride— and clenches his fists in his lap. "senior... p-please... give it back..."

you cock your head teasingly. "hm? give what back?"

"the- the diary. please." he forces himself to meet your gaze, and for once you don't see the haughty star student but a bashful boy caught red-handed. "please give it back."

"oh, this?" you take it out from between your thighs, taking notice of how his eyes shake as he fixes his gaze on it. you wave it languidly in front of him. "this diary that you write your fantasies about your senior?"

he gulps, and nods hesitantly. you bark out a laugh and stand. honestly, who knew it'd be this easy to bring the great haitham down to his knees before you? your body reaches over the table, nose brushing against his, before you slide the journal between his fingers.

"honestly," you tease his ears with your breath. "you should be more straightforward with me next time. seniors are meant to help their juniors, no matter how rude they may be."

and when you nip the shell of his ear, haitham hopes that you don't hear the whine he had accidentally let out.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yester.events #yester.writes

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solarwoniii · 7 months

Text

" ˋ꒰ what if !? ꒱ " - ft. choi yeonjun

[ nsfw post! minors please do not interact. there are many other posts on my and other’s blogs which are much more suitable for your consumption! ]

syn. if there's one thing you can't do, it's swim. so, when you almost drown at a business get-together, your parents decide its about time they got you into swimming lessons. little do they know, the polite young man who they hired to teach their sweet and innocent daughter had intentions, which would lead her to question 'what if?'

a/n. LOOK AT ME GOOOO FIRST FIC IN LIKE FOREVER?? if this flops i will literally cry omg pls excuse my writing i have only just started getting back into this recently ehe... pls give me reblogs and feedback it will give me the motivation i need to keep going okay ty enjoy

cw. pool sex, not rly public but risky stuff, tutor x tutee, mentions of drowning, somewhat of plot building here, rough/rushed, vvv affectionate stuff, secret relationship, very subby reader w/ dom yeonjun, pet names (princess, baby, ect.), heavy praise, i think that's all but please do let me know if i missed anything!

your head was spinning with ‘what ifs’. you whimpered at the painfully pleasureful feel of yeonjun putting his hands on your hips, his grip strong enough to leave reddening nail marks on your tender skin as he lifted you off of his length, only to let your entire body drop back down with a harsh slam. he smirked at the way you reacted to the feeling of the battering intrusion, a shuddering gasp escaping your partially parted lips at the way he stretched your core out with ministrations similar to that of an ever-racing train, spinning out of control as it runs head-first off of its tracks.

you had almost drowned six months ago at one of your parents' business celebrations, and probably would have died if the man before you hadn't dove into the water, pulled you out into the surface and resuscitated you.

since then, your parents had been worried sick for you and any other encounters with a body of water, they'd always known you couldn't swim, but they hadn't thought that it was that bad. so, of course, they had done what any worried caretaker would do, and exchanged information with the boy, once finding out that he was in fact a swim tutor himself. it would be much better than hiring a stranger, and this man seemed to be quite the well-rounded boy, considering he the son of their closest business partner. not only did he have outstanding grades, but he was respectful and he was around your age. so, what harm could he possibly do to their sweet daughter?

a lot.

and you knew that now, after six months of lessons and a few months of secretly dating the boy.

although, you had never really done anything so risky with him before.

“what if we get caught?” you whispered through the tears prickling your eyes, rolling down your cheeks, “we’d get into so much trouble, we’d be banned from ever speaking to each other again, we-“

yeonjun's large hand wrapped around the back of your head, making your face meet his in a kiss so sultry, yet so beckoning. he smirked against your mouth, “you worry too much, princess.”

you gulped at the boy underneath you, his gaze falling to yours through his wet eyelashes, his dampened brown locks falling messily over his eyes, his mouth stained with your strawberry lipgloss. although the room was dark, the way his smirk graced his lips made you clench around his girth, as you spoke ever so softly, “i-i’m only being cautious..!”

he rolled his eyes at you, “you’re fucking your swim tutor, baby. caution left way long ago.”

you closed your eyes and hid your face in your hands with guilt and shame as he reminded you of the graveness of the situation you had entangled yourself into, "ugh..! my parents sent me here to swim and i'm doing... this!"

yeonjun chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around your cold, barren, water-dripping body, his legs dipped into the swimming pool, "if you wanted to swim that badly, you could've said so."

"wait, what are you--" your questioning was abruptly cut off as your boyfriend suddenly held onto you, pulling you into the water along with him. your piercing squeal of surprise echoed through the halls of the empty pool as you found yourself splashing into the cold water, the smell of chlorine and fear only intensifying as your paddled around with your hands. yeonjun laughed at your struggle as you grabbed onto him for some stability.

"see? we're swimming now." he said matter-of-factly, before looking over to the clock. his eyes widened as he realised the time.

he circled his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, "i'm going to kill y-" you started, until yeonjun grabbed both of your cheeks, connecting his lips to yours messily.

"kill me later." his voice came out in a lazy mumble as he held you close, "your session's ending soon. let's finish off what we started."

your eyebrows furrowed at the way his playfulness seemed to nullify, his voice becoming much more mellow and low as his lips moulded against yours. your eyes fell heavy as he suddenly spun you around, pushing you up against the wall of the pool, pulling your ass out towards him in swift, forceful movements. his lips suctioned onto the back of your neck as yeonjun pushed himself into your tightening hole, his hips meeting yours in an angle where he could so easily fill you to the hilt, his pink and throbbing tip attacking your cervix. you cried in pleasure at his desperate and quick movements, sending you into a state of pleasure that you weren't even sure existed.

the pool water around you splashed and sloshed with every movement, his mouth beside your ear as he spoke to you, "feels good, baby?"

"f-feels s-so good, junnie-" you whimpered in response, the tears from earlier racing back as you screwed your eyes shut tight. his hand lifted one of your legs, effectively spreading you out impossibly more, as his middle and ring fingers rubbed at your clit in rough, sloppy circles.

"gonna tell your parents 'bout how much you've improved..." yeonjun said, tone dripping both with love and lust as his other hand snaked around your body, groping at your breasts, his lips fluttering soft kisses along your jawline, "my smart girl catches on so fast every time. always makin' me so proud."

a choked moan left the back of your throat, your wet hair falling into your eyes with each thrust, your voice shaky as you babbled mindlessly, "d-don't wanna go home.."

he smirked softly, pecking your temple, "i know, baby. but i'll see you next week, okay? and then we can catch up on the lost time all over again."

you sniffled, "o-okay." your hand quivering as it found his, gripping tightly onto his fingers as you clamped tightly around him, "s-so close, junnie."

"yeah? you're gonna cum for me?" he asked between heavy pants as each thrust he delivered came faster than the last one, the erotic nature of the sound of your skin slapping against his making your body quake.

you could only respond with the nod of your head at his question, much too dazed to even think straight anymore. you felt the crash coming as your climax built up in your stomach, your thighs shook and convulsed at the sensation as you let out a broken cry of pleasure, dropping your head as our release sent your mind spiralling into a web weaved with so many different emotions, you were sure that you would lose count if you tried.

the movement of his hips slowed to an eventual stop as his peak reached as well, leaving you filled with his pearlescent finish as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder as he laid gentle kisses along the side of your neck. the words he said only came out in a soft whisper with his lips against the shell of your ear, "let's get dried off.."

taglist. @hunbun07 @metalchick529 @chewryy @haesunflower @iraa567 @jwchn @bunhoons !

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the-shiftshop · 1 year

Text

Changes Happen All The Time. You're Just Aren't Aware Of It

"Here's a long transformation story to keep up with my debt." - Uncle Lee

Finally, graduation. Ron and Paul had finally finished college and it was time for the childhood friends to come back to their home town. The two were unseparable every since childhood. Until they were college, they both went to the same university, taking the same course, living in the same dorm room.

On this day, it's was time to bring all their stuff back home. Paul is already done with his, with Ron driving him back and forth, so this time, it was Paul's time to help Ron bring all his stuff back.

"Eyes on the road, man. I swear you're going off the road" Paul tapped his buddy as he continue fidgeting with his phone.

Paul is your averarage college senior. Although wanting to build muscles, his studies get in the way, making him stay on an average build. Not too skinny, yet not that fat. Although his studies matter so much, he never backs down from adventures especially when it's with Ron.

"Yeah, well. We're basically in a deserted area. No cars, no buildings, and frankly, I don't think I'll hit something either way." Ron argued, still listening to Paul and makes sure the van is on he right lane.

Ron on the other hand can be mistaken for a stereotypical jock bro if only he's not known for being one of the top notchers in the university, and also maybe because of his rectangular glasses. He is lean with muscle and he lives showing off both his brain and brawn. He has an average amount of body hair on his face, chest, arms, and legs, which most of the time were kept trimmed.

Both had been long good friend despite differences especially with preferences. A very inseparable pair.

"I'm honestly kinda thirsty. Think we can find some place to buy drinks around here?" Ron followed, eyeing for any buildings in the horizon.

"I bet not." Paul answered. "I can find you some water from the back if you want."

"Naw.. We already drank them all. Thought we only had two of our own bottles." Ron replied.

"Alright, let's see..." Paul went to his map app and scanned for any shop the map app, and sure enough one suddenly appeared.

Paul could've sworn that wasn't there before, but eh, it's probably just because we didn't zoom in enough.

"Here's one, just a few more kilometers away." Paul showed Ron.

Ron drove to the location of the said shop and lo and behold, there was one shop just along the road in the middle of nowhere.

They parked on the edge of the road in front of the shop, turned the van off and went out together. As Paul checked the condition of their van, Ron walked near the store.

"Hey, I'll go ask for some water. You can wait for me out here" Paul said.

"Yeah, sure. I'll just check if we're still good here." Ron replied, tapping on the van's hot wheels.

As Paul walked near the shop, he started to feel all tingly and weird. As if he's entering a separate dimension of some sort through a force field. A large sign is placed just above the wooden door.

"The Shift Shop" Paul read.

Without anymore hesitation, Paul proceeds and marvelled at the view of the inside.

Through he wooden door, it wasn't like anything from the outside. It felt like one of the shops you see in your favorite fantasy movies. There were areas with sparkling contraptions, a flying phoenix roaming the store, small fireworks exploding in different colors, it all looked magical.

Paul closed the door and proceeded deeper. It may seem magical, but there were shelves displaying products as if it's Walmart. Paul saw food, hygiene products, electronics, dairy, snacks, and anything you may imagine. There was even an area for clothes and accessories. Paul was too much in awe that he forgot what he came in for.

Soon, he reached the counter. A bell on top of it rang automatically to acknowledge his presence and to notify the owner that a visitor had come by, almost too automatic to look like it has a life of its own.

"Just a moment!" Paul heard a deep voice coming from behind the curtain across the other side of the counter, although he swear the voice spoke of a different language, probably Korean, yet somehow he understood it automatically.

The bell rang again, rushing the man to come out as soon as possible. "Told you, Bell, to wait for a moment! I'm... you know what nevermind." The man spoke again and Paul confirmed it was Korean, yet he understood.

The man finally walked out of the curtain, and Paul gasped at the fair skinned Asian hunk wearing a thick-framed glasses. He was topless with a messy wet hair, wearing only a long beige dress pants, buckled with a black belt.

"Apologies, but my bell is always so eager to have me come and greet my visitors. I just finished taking a bath and, yeah I guess it's evident." The man spoke, this time in English. As he finish speaking, he wears the white plain shirt he was holding, "Welcome to the Shift Shop. I'm guessing this is your first time?"

"Y-Yeah. It's honestly... amazing here." Paul managed to mutter.

"Thanks, that's centuries of good work." The man chuckled, "I'm the owner of the shop, Timotheo Lee, or you can just call me Uncle Lee."

"Uncle?" Paul chuckled. The man does not look like he's old enough to be his uncle, nor be anyone's uncle anyway. He seem to be just around 25, and those youthful muscle and smooth skin did all the talking. "Is that a pen name or something?"

"Oh, I'm not kidding about the century thing. I'm older than what you think." Uncle Lee smirked.

"Really?" Paul didn't bother lengthening the discussion about his age. The shop itself already seemed so unreal. The man could even be a older than how many centuries he guess. Instead, his eyes roamed around the room.

Uncle Lee chuckled once more and moved closer to her customer. "Seems like you're looking for something, I mean you proceeded deeper into my shop. You're thirsty for something magical, aren't you?"

Paul laughed. "I'm honestly just 'thirsty' thirsty" He replied, "But something magical doesn't seem like a bad idea."

Uncle Lee tapped on his bell "Jules!" He called out and suddenly a short nerdy suited up staff appeared from thin air.

"S-Sir!" Jules replied, stuttering.

"Guide our new visitor to some areas he might fancy" Uncle Lee winked at Jules.

Jules seemed to almost melt just by his boss's wink. He made a soft 'aww' right after the man did so. "Y-Yes, sir!" Jules gave a salute and invited Paul to some part of the shop.

---

Paul had roamed around longer than he expected. He tried a bunch of testers and witnessed different kinds of magic while in the store, all of which Jules let Paul try on him.

There were fruits that turn people older or younger. There were gadgets that help you fulfil your wishes. There were literally a lot to see, but soon enough Paul stopped by a certain product that catched his eyes.

"A jade necklace?" Paul asked.

"Oh, not just any jade necklace" Jules said in a deep rumbling voice. Throughout all the testing, Jules ended up with a body of a 40 year old body builder with dog ears and tails that matches his white hair. "It's the Necklace of Names."

"Necklace of Names?" Paul repeated.

"Necklace of Names" Jules repeated back. "It's supposed to make the wearer able to change whoever he calls in a different name, and the other person will never know the changes!" Jules exclaimed. "Let's have this for an example: I'm wearing the necklace and I called you by any name aside from your actual name, for instance, I called you 'gramps'. You'll turn into a grandpa version of yourself!" Jules explained. "Or if I call you by a name of a famous actor, or someone I know, that'll automatically change you to that person. It's honestly best if you an try it yourself."

Jules takes the necklace and brought it to Paul's hand.

"And the person I change won't notice a thing?" Paul asked for confirmation while looking at the green pendant the necklace has.

"They certainly wont and their mind and personality will also adapt," Jules answered. "And in most cases, reality also adjusts, but you still have to be careful".

"If it's magic, bet it has some sort of consequences once I started using this, no? I mean just like in the movies" Paul asked

Jules nodded "Exactly." He said, "But if you wanna try it on just like what you did to the other products, don't worry, we had the consequence feature turned off when it's just for testing. But for this specific bad boy..." Jules tapped on he necklace. "I honestly don't think you'll consider it a consequence. Bet you'll even like it. I can tell you what it is unless you like surprises."

"Surprises, huh." Paul looked at the necklce and back to Jules "Yeah, I'm up for surprises. I'll figure it out on my own"

"Great! So a keeper?" Jules smiled.

"A keeper."

Paul was convinced already and didn't even have to try it on Jules. They walked back to the counter and paid.

"Mhmm. The Necklace of Names." Uncle Lee sang. "You have a great taste." He looked at me and back at the necklace. "That would be a dollar."

A dollar? That's so cheap for this quality and he expected more. Paul brought his wallet from his pocket and pulled out 2 dollars and placed it on the counter.

"This shouldn't be just a dollar. It even looks expensive." Paul remarked.

"Oh, Paul. It's alright. It really is just a dollar." Uncle Lee nodded and adjusted his glasses. "This shop does not really run from profit. This exchange is merely just like signing a contract by barter." He continued. "I prefer to know you're enjoying the magic than earning money from the magic."

Paul stared at Uncle Lee and his eyes lit it.

"And you know, I choose my customers well. I know you'll do great with our items." Paul smiled.

"Thank you." Paul smiled by the compliment. He's starting to understand why Jules reacts all shy around him.

"Anyways, I'll keep the other dollar. You best be on your way to your trip, and you, Jules..." Uncle Lee trailed off, looking at the silver fox hunk Jules had turned into. "Let's come to the back. I have to do something with that thick ass of yours" He winked at Jules and then waved goodbye to Paul. "Take care, Paul."

---

Paul left the store with a smile. He really had paid for the necklace with just a dollar. He decided to put it on and walked back to the van.

There was Ron, now holding 2 big bottles of water he got somewhere.

"Dude, where did you go? What took you so long?" Ron has his eyebrow furrowed, all while taking a drink from his water.

"Ah! Right. I forgot to buy-"

"Already did that, man. I was looking for you inside the store and you weren't there. Where did you go?" Ron asked again.

"I was inside the sh-" Paul turned back to look at the shop, but gasped at what he saw.

The shop was different now. Gone with the big signage and the wooden door. It turned into a regular off-the-road convenience store. Paul kept his mouth shut and looked back to Ron.

"Let's get back on the road. It's getting dark." Ron commanded and they both went back in the van.

---

It has been a few minutes and they've finally reached a populated area, and Paul still couldn't stop thinking about what happened. It was obviously not any hallucination since the necklace he bought is still hanging on his neck. Nevertheless, he'd want to try the necklace out, but to whom?

"You're unusually quiet. What's up?" Ron snapped Paul back to reality. "We passed by a lot of interesting sights earlier and you didn't even reacted like how you would."

"Nothing. Just thinking." Paul excused.

"Whatever it is, I ain't the type to just let my buddy stay silent throughout the drive. Whatchu wanna do?" Ron asked.

"Nothing, really." Paul replied, "Don't worry about it."

"Naww. C'mon." Ron then chuckled. "You know I'm not that type to pretend like I ain't seeing you're out of your usual mood."

It's really hard for Ron to endure that, and as much as he can, he tends to joke around just to make Paul laugh. And as for Paul, those damn words. It always was what reminds him of things he can never let go.

Paul always had a big crush on his childhood friend. Although he never had trully opened up to Ron about it because of the fear of losing his friend. Because of that, he always had to push those thoughts away to preserve their friendship, yet it's really hard when your friend is all affectionate like this.

"You wanna jerk off?" Ron smirked.

"What? No! Where did that come from?" Paul jumped from his seat. His heart beating too fast.

"Come on~ My bestfriend just needs a little bit of release~" Ron teased. He was joking. Paul knows that. It always had been a joke. "I'll stroke that dick if I were you. It's just the two of us anyway."

"Oh, shut up, Ron!" Paul laughed.

"What? If you don't want to, I'll stroke it for you." Ron giggled, jokingly placing a hand on Paul's thigh, immitating some stereotypical dumb jock asking for some bro time with his buddy.

"Stop that, you horny dumb jock-" Paul eye's widened as he finish his sentence. He snapped his head back to Ron as Ron suddenly groaned.

The van started to slow down until they stopped on the side of the road. Paul's eyes widened as he realized what he had just done. Ron was changing. The necklace was doing its job.

"U-Urgh..." Ron groaned as he stretched his body, his hand still on Paul's thigh, which was now massaging it. "Fuck, bro..."

Bro. Ron was turning into a "Horny Dumb Jock" he just called him.

Ron's muscles started to morph itself, changing his build in one way or another. His body hair started to disappear to look like they're cleanly shaven away. Tattoos apeared around his body, and he can feel it. The muted pain of tattoo needles crawled around his body, but it wasn't really that painful to him. It was pleasurable. Ron started to move his other hand around his body, feeling every skin. Pinching his nipple through his t-shirt, then feeling his abs inside, then moving it to paw his growing hard on. All the while his other had was roaming around Paul's thigh. Ron's clothes started to change. His shirt darkened and shifted to a tanktop, loose enough to show his chest. His glasses disappeared, and a cap formed on his head. His eyebrows furrowed harder as his old memories gets replaced by new ones. He's a horny dumb jock. He spend all his day fucking, masturbating, and jocking out. All the knowledge of a top notcher disappeared. His memories with Paul did not disappear, though some parts like their dynamics, their hobbies together, changed. Soon enough, Ron finished changing, physically and mentally.

"Fuck, bro. I really..." The newly jockified Ron groaned. "I really need to bust one out. I..."

Paul was left speechless. He did it. He accidentally used the necklace on Ron. He doesn't know how to feel about this, but there he stared at his childhood friend-slash-crush.

Ron moved his hand back to his crotch, pawing at his hard on that seemed to have grown than its original size. His other hand, still on Paul's thigh, squeeze it.

Paul was turned on and don't know why. He noticed his cock also hard in his pants, and Ron, squeezing his thigh, is making it more arousing.

"I need to... urgh.... jerk off." Ron grunted, like it is very urgent for him to release. "C-Can I?" Ron looked at Paul.

They stared at each other. Paul felt his heart beat faster than ever. At some point Paul wants to join Ron, but he's trying all his best not to.

"R-Ron...nnie" Paul tried to call on Ron, but for some reason, he called him Ronnie. He never called him that, but it seems automatic.

It was the necklace's work. Each change also gives the other person a new name. This is to have it easy for the owner to turn the other person back to their original body. And for this instance, Ron had just turned into a horny jock named Ronnie.

"Y-Yeah, go on. I-I don't mind, R-Ronnie." Paul stuttered.

"Yeah... No homo, bro, alright?" Ronnie said while pulling down on his shorts, revealing his hard cock. "Fuck..."

Paul stared at Ronnie as he jerked off. Ronnie still carressing Paul's thigh as he do so. "Yeah... No homo..." Paul repeated, staring at Ronnie's cock.

It was his first time seeing Ronnie's cock after years. Although it seems like this version of Ron has a bigger dick than the original.

The van was filled with loud sensual moans. Paul watched Ronnie's pecs bounce as he stroke his cock. Ronnie looks so hot when his face contort everytime he finds his own pleasure spots. Soon enough, Ronnie was near.

"F-Fuck, bro. I'm gonna-" Ronnie stroke faster, and he gripped harder on Paul's thigh. "I'm gonna cum!"

Ronnie came loads of cum all over his shirt, some of them landing on his cap, almost making a big mess on his van.

"O-Oh... Shit.... That feels sooo good." Ronnie limps down, taking deep breaths as he chuckle and looked back to Paul. Ronnie removed his shirt and used it to wipe all his cum off his body and his cap, and Paul had a good look on his hunky body. Ronnie noticed and smirked.

"You seem like you're hard too, bro." Ronnie eyed Paul's cock, which Paul hid on cue. "Naw, bro. You know we can be this comfortable to each other." Ronnie smiled at him. "Want me to help you out?" He asked, moving one hand back to his knee, moving up to his thigh

Paul's eyes widened. "N-No. I'm alright, Ronnie."

"You sure? You can always say No Homo anyway?" Ronnie's face gave a mild frown. "I told you if anything to make my bro happy, I'll do it."

"I-It's fine."

"Aight, suit yourself."

And they continued their drive with Ronnie, shirtless, and Paul's cock, hard.

---

The rest of the drive gave Paul the opportunity to experiment on his friend. In the last 30 minutes, Paul decided to experiment more. Ron had turned into a dad, a freshman, a foreigner, and other stuff Paul managed to trigger as they converse. Satisfied and almost near their destination, Paul reverted Ron back to his original body just by calling him again in his real nickname "Ron".

Upon arriving at Ron's house, Paul could've sworn Ron had been stealing glances from him more than usual. While they we're fixing stuff, it's often for Paul to find out Ron is lost in deep thoughts. He had caught Ron staring at him, sometimes adjusting the collar of his shirt, and even his underwear.

By sunset, they are almost finished putting everything in place in Ron's room. Both Paul and Ron were left sweaty due to carrying a bunch of stuff from the van to the house.

"I gotta take a quick break." Ron said as he took his shirt off and dropped them on the side. "Could you bring the last box in?" Ron asked Paul as he sat on the chair.

"Yes, sir" Paul answered.

"Damn, that could be another trigger. " He tought to himself.

What he called him as a little vague. Ron could turn either a very well respected dad, or his professor, or someone that can dominate him in bed. As he looked back to where Ron was sitting, there he saw the new man.

Before the new Ron could speak, Paul's eyes widened and hurried himself out the room and grabbed the last remaining box. His friend, his crush, turned into one heck of a dreamboat.

Reaching the living room, Paul came to he box. It was a big box that should be carried by two people, but Paul managed to carry it himself. Although struggling, he carried it to the room.

It was hard for Paul to carry the box in while walking forward, so Paul had to turn his back and walk backwards into the door frame.

"Excuse me, this thing's heav-" Paul exclaimed as he struggled.

"Wait, lemme take care of-"

The new Ron said in a soft deep voice as he rushed to Paul's aid, but before he managed to do so, Paul tripped.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed and ran to catch Paul, only to fall too and both of them and the box on the floor, Paul lying on top of Ron.

"You okay, kid?" Ron asked, holding onto Paul.

"Sorry, sir." Paul replied.

Paul felt something on his back, growing hard. He heard Ron clear his throat, and so he looked up to see Paul, blushing.

"S-Sir, I can feel your..."

"S-Sorry!" Ron pushed Paul off his body and slid up to sit. "I-I..."

Paul sat down to face Ron. He can see Ron's huge cock straining against his gray shorts, just enough for Paul to get hard himself too. They stared at each other's cocks then to each other's eyes. Then in one quick movement, they were kissing.

Paul broke the kiss, shying away from his indirect confession. "F-Fuck. I'm sorry." He said. "That was very impulsive."

"It's alright." Ron said, still looking at Paul's eyes. He smiled and grabbed Paul's hand and guided it to his chest.

"S-Sir..." Paul's eyes widened.

"It's fine, Paul. I want this too."

Paul melted as Ron spoke in his deep sensual voice. It was a very reassuring but sexy baritone voice coming out from the mouth of this sexy hunk his friend had turned into

"Can I?" Ron motioned to move closer.

Paul nodded and welcomed Ron. Ron slided closer to Paul and started feeling his body s he kiss him on the neck. Paul shivered as Ron finds every pleasure spots in his body. Ron took Paul's shirt off and kissed his chest, coming to a nipple. All the effort of hiding how he liked his bestfriend broke down. It was just he and him enjoying the moment.

"A-Ah!" Paul moaned. "That feels so good."

"You like that?" Ron's eyes gleamed as he ask.

"Yes, sir." Paul nodded, putting both of his hands on Ron's face.

"Call me, Russel. Paul." He requested. "I'm not your teacher anymore"

Russel. That's Ron's name in this body of a hunk. So happened that he is his professor. Former, actually. Russel was doing a great job in making Paul feel good. Both of their cocks are basically stone hard and Paul had been wanting release even before they arrived to Russel's home. Russel pulled Paul's shorts off and marveled at the cock in front of his face.

"Wow, you have a big cock..." Russel said which made Paul chuckle.

"You think? Yours is even bigger." Paul stroked Russel's cock through his shorts and made him groan.

Russel took his shorts off too, finally letting Paul see this thick hairy cock. Paul grabbed on Russel's balls and played with it before stroking his cock again.

Russel moved closer to Paul's cock. "Can I...?" Russel asked.

"Please." Paul pulled Russel's head to his cock.

Russel went straight in, sucking Paul with all his might. The room once again was filled with mostly Paul's moans. His former childhood friend, now a hunky former professor is sucking his cock so eagerly. He's almost near and he's practically begging for release.

"Sir... Russel, I'm gonna."

"Not yet." Russel stood up and carried Paul onto the bed, sitting.

Paul expected that they'll fuck. He stared at Russel's thick hard cock and shivered at the thought of how painful can it be to have that in his ass.

"W-Wait. I can't take you. You're too big!" Paul pushed on Russel.

"Who said you're the one who's gonna be fucked? Russel grinned.

Paul's eyes once again widened as Russel climed onto his cock and sat on it. Without any hesitation, Russel pushed his ass down to Paul's cock.

"A...urgh!" Both of then groaning in pleasure

"You feel so good..." Russel whimpered.

"Y-You're so tight!" Paul moaned.

Russel groaned louder as Paul pushed and hat hit his prostate. "A-Ah! Sh..." Russel then moved, riding on Paul's cock.

It was too much to handle for Paul. The hunky professor is riding his cock. He's fucking a hunk. He then motioned to kiss Russel once more as they move. Paul holds onto Russel's cock as he strokes him. Paul lied down and Russel followed. He brought his feet onto he bed and started humping Russel himself.

"I-I'm close!" Russel exclaimed.

"Y-Yeah?" Paul smirked.

"Ah... Ah! I'm gonna cum!" Russel moaned hard.

"Cum for me, Russel!"

Soon, Russel came all his load onto Paul. Some hitting his face. Paul didn't stop thrusting his cock in Russel. He went faster and soon...

"I... I'm gonna cum too..." Paul said.

Russel moved and licked Paul's nipple, driving Paul insane.

"Y-Yeah! More! I'm gonna cum!"

Paul moaned and finally, he released into Russel's ass. They moved for one more kiss, and once they broke, they chuckled at each other.

Paul pulled out. Both panting and grasping for air.

"So..." Paul trailed off

"So...?" Russel followed

Paul paused or a moment. The power he got from the Necklace of Names was great. It seemed like he almost live in every fantasy he can think of, but then again, what about his friend Ron?

He looked at Russel. This was Russel, his former professor in this new reality. He may have been his friend a moment ago, but it was all Russel who made a move on him.

It was Ron who he liked, not the dumb horny jock, Ronnie, and most certainly despite being a fantasy-brought-to-life, not this hunky professor, Russel. Paul got lost in that thought. What could even happen if he revert Ron back?

"Uhm... Wanna take a shower with me?" Russel asked, bringing his hand to Paul.

"Yeah, sure."

---

They proceeded to the shower. Russel went in first, testing the temperature, then offering his hand to Paul to guide him in. Russel washed off the cum on of their bodies, then he opened up for a big warm bear hug.

Paul stuck his face in between Russel's chests, still thinking about earlier. Trying to muster up his courage, he asked.

"Do you like me?"

Russel cleared his throat. "Well... I hope it wouldn't be weird to tell you I like you since I am your professor, no? Well... Former."

"No, I meant..." Paul stopped for a moment, then looked up to Russel's eyes, trying all his best to look for Ron in this deep brown eyes. "Do you like me, Ron?"

Russel began to shrink back down. His muscles lessening and his age going back to 22. He's back to Ron, just the regular old Ron.

"I.... I like you, Paul. I really do." Ron's cheeks flushed red, still hugging his friend. "I mean... I always had this feelings for so long... I just didn't think..."

"I like you back?" Paul continued. "I also had this for a very long time too..."

They smiled.

"Ron." Paul called out once again. "I don't know how to phrase this properly, but..."

In his mind, he had kissed Russel, but that was not trully Ron, it was just right to ask one more time, right?

"Can I kiss you?" Paul reached up to Ron's cheeks.

Ron didn't hesitate. He smiled and brought Paul into his lips.

Yet another round for Paul, but it's real this time.

#body modification #shapeshift #reality change

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babytarttdoodoo · 10 months

Note

The team somehow find out about what Jamie’s dad did in Amsterdam and are horrified/furious.

I’m skipping ahead to write this one because it won’t leave my brain alone. I apologise to all readers for the pain this is about to inflict.

If it makes you feel better, I am not okay after writing it.

It will also be in multiple parts since I really feel like the Reveal and the Reaction are things that need separate room to breathe.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (pending)

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

It came down to the timing, really.

Every locker room Jamie had ever been in had worked its way around to this topic sooner or later. Especially in the Academy, where the typical teenaged obsession with ‘who had done it’ reigned supreme.

Jamie had never had a problem with it. He’d shrugged or laughed or lied and no one ever called him out. He was Jamie Fucking Tartt, after all.

He’d never had to breathe a word about Amsterdam.

Telling Roy had been a spur of the moment decision, and one that hadn’t really bothered him at the time. It hadn’t fundamentally altered their friendship or made Roy tiptoe around him (thank fuck).

But his reaction - Jesus. Must have been traumatising. - had played on Jamie’s mind. So much so that when his talks with Dr Sharon had broached the subject of ‘intimacy’, he thought it was probably worth bringing up.

Yeah. That conversation had gone a bit differently.

And now, here Jamie was, two days into processing his freshly unpacked trauma and his teammates were cheerfully regaling each other with stories about losing their virginity.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“It was my last night before flying out here.” Sam was telling the group, a sweet, bashful smile on his face.

“Didn’t know you’d had a girlfriend back home.” Isaac chimed in.

“We had already decided to break up, instead of doing the whole long-distance thing,” Sam explained. “It was a nice way to say goodbye, though.”

There was a general sound of agreement and Richard took the opportunity to launch into a questionable story about charming a runway model at the ripe age of 17.

Jamie just continued getting changed in silence, letting the voices wash over him and trying not to let the sudden nausea show on his face. Removing his jersey felt like a Herculean task when all he wanted to do was get the fuck out of here.

Sam’s experience sounded like something out of one of Ted’s rom-coms. That was good. That’s what someone as nice as Sam deserved.

What had Jamie deserved, then?

He quickly cut off that line of thought. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to think about it. Not here. Not now.

It was like trying to cover up an open wound when everyone else had a morbid impulse to poke at it.

A ripple of laughter pulled him back to the room and set his teeth on edge. He pulled a fresh shirt over his head and tried to breathe through the swelling, pulsating anger and shame that threatened to surface.

It was utter bullshit. He hadn’t thought about what had happened with anything more than vague disgust and detachment for years. A whole decade, even. Fuck Dr Sharon and Roy and all these giggling idiots for changing that.

“Oi, you’ve gone quiet, Jamie.”

A few curious eyes turned in his direction and the only thing that stopped him from shrinking away was years of playing at being untouchable.

Instead, Jamie scoffed and plastered on a smile, hiding his fists in his clothes and digging his nails as deep into his palms as they would go. “Eh, a gentleman never tells, mate.”

But he had hesitated a second too long and he saw the potential for mischief light up in a few faces. They knew him too well, he realised, the knowledge churning in his gut.

He wasn’t Jamie Fucking Tartt here. He was just Jamie.

“You are not a gentleman.” Richard stated bluntly, eyebrows raised and a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“That is true.” Jan agreed, because of course he fucking did. “You have bragged many times about being with women.”

“What happened, amigo?” It wasn’t fucking fair that Dani sounded so genuinely interested.

“Maybe she didn’t like his pink pants.” Isaac threw in and it drew another round of laughter. The noise echoed in Jamie’s head.

He knew, he knew they were just teasing because they didn’t know better. They were being dickheads because they were always kind of dickheads to each other. It was banter. On any other day it would be fine.

His neon underwear had nearly caused a riot the week before and it had been hilarious.

Why couldn’t he just act like it was funny now?

“It’s none of your fucking business.” he finally managed, not quite keeping the harsh edge out of his tone. He turned away and pretended to be looking for something in his bag so he wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.

“C’mon, mate, can’t be more embarrassing than mine.” Colin added easily, utterly comfortable with the conversation, in spite of all the implications it had for him specifically. Jamie really fucking admired that.

He was ridiculously, fiercely envious of it.

“Guys, he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.” Sam admonished lightly. He was offering him a liferaft and it rankled at Jamie in all the wrong ways.

He didn’t need fucking saving. He wasn’t some soft, delicate little thing that needed Sam Obisanya of all people rushing to his rescue.

Suddenly, he was speaking without having made any conscious decision to do so.

“14.” Jamie’s voice was too loud, too sharp in this safe space that on any other day felt like home. But his fingers were clenching and unclenching, and his shoulders were coiled tight, and there was a rushing in his ears.

The vitriol pooled like acid on his tongue and Jamie couldn’t help but spew it out before it began to eat him away.

“I were 14.” He smirked and it felt wrong. It felt cruel and bitter. He rounded on Colin and relished in the flicker of unease that crossed his face. “No fucking idea how old she were but I can tell you how much my dad paid for her to fuck me straight.”

The silence should have been oppressive, he thought distantly. The way the air stilled should have made it hard to breathe. The colour leaching from not just Colin’s face, but Jan’s and Richard’s on either side, should have been concerning.

It just felt freeing, in a twisted, emptying sort of way.

“Jamie-”

“No! No, it’s alright!” Jamie turned wild eyes and a manic grin on Sam, finding it abstractly funny that the younger player took a step back. “You wanted details, right?”

He shrugged, looking around at the slack faces of his teammates. He’d moved forward, he realised, making himself the centre of attention. Typical.

“Tell you what, yeah? Next time we’re in Amsterdam, I’ll take you all on a little tour. Don’t remember her name but I’m pretty sure I could find the place again, no problem.”

And he probably could. He remembered his dad talking to some bloke smoking in a doorway while Jamie stood in the rain, confused. He remembered loud people and neon lights all around. He remembered how the place had smelled when he’d been pulled inside…

Someone else was saying his name now. He didn’t care. He just got louder.

“You wanted a show, didn’t you Thierry? We could put on a repeat performance. Play-by-play reenactment, ‘cept you’ve got to think I can do better now, right? Better with age and all that.”

Arms closed around him from behind and whatever vile shit he was about to spray out into the atmosphere died in his throat. Jamie’s entire body bucked, trying to break away.

“Fuck off!”

It didn’t sound like his voice, a screeching snarl that cracked partway through.

“Jamie.” Roy’s voice in his ear. Roy’s arms around his chest. “Jamie. Stop. Don’t make it worse.”

And what response was there to that except to laugh? Fucking hilarious, that one. Too little too fucking late.

Jamie only registered that he was being half pulled, half carried out of the locker room when the laughter started to hitch in his chest. When the air wasn’t coming like it was supposed to. When Roy manhandled him into an office chair and the tears started in earnest.

All the fight went out of him like a marionette with its strings cut and he just cried.

(TBC)

#legitimately had to go for a walk in the rain after writing this #jamie tartt #fic prompts #my fic #ted lasso #afc richmond

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krizariel · 9 months

Text

Inspired on an episode from HIMYM - because is my background noise show:

Tim hooking up with Jason thinking he is a hooker because whoever introduced them (probably OG Bernard) was playing a prank on Tim for being a prude/too puritan and is not like Tim had much time to find a date for the wedding he had to go to. He is still friends with his ex but it hasn't been that long since the break-up and its awkward and now they have to go to the same wedding since they are within the same group of friends.

Bernard: You should totally bring a date

Tim: what? who am I gonna bring? I'm too busy as it is and I'm not going to bring a random guy from grindr

Bernard: Eh, just bring an escort

Tim: I'm not THAT desperate.

Bernard: Pfft, what's the big deal, no strings attached, get to show everyone you are doing just fine, no one has to know, you leave with your dignity AND a good time

Tim: You cannot be serious.

Bernard: Oh I'm so serious. What, Tim Drake can't hook up with a hooker now?

Tim: Just no, and seriously shut up. I'll see if I can find someone and I have nothing to prove I don't care to make Steph jealous. Plus I'm sure she won't bring a date.

Wedding comes, Tim shows up and Bernard is with his date and another very handsome man.

Tim pulls Bernard to the side because what?!

Tim: Who is that?

Bernard: Oh, you know, found you a date *wink*, thank me later.

Tim: With a hooker!?

Bernard: What, too handsome to be a hooker uh? No one would ever suspect anything

Tim: That's beside the point! I had said no-

Bernard: Geez, give it a try no one said to sleep or do anything with him? He is just a companion tonight, whatever else happens is up to you

Tim: I know that! But-

Steph: You guys ok there?

Steph and her date had joined Jason and Ariana (Bernard's date) and they had come looking for Bernard and Tim.

Jason: Hey, you are way cuter than described.

And he winked at Tim. He was way too handsome, towering the whole group.

Tim at first is kind of forced to go along but it would be awkward to reject Jason since he was already there, and it was not his fault plus damn he looked stunning. They hit it off just fine, in fact it was great, Jay was a total nerd, they spent most of the night talking, drinking and flirting, and Tim started to feel all giddy and more emboldened to just flirt back. Is not like he will see him again right?

The event was at a hotel and they were going to leave their own ways. At first Tim was reluctant because well, he has never done this before and maybe this is going to be really expensive but… what the hell, he hasn't been with anyone for some time and he really finds he likes Jason even if he is a hooker and might not actually like Tim. So he invited Jason to his room to which Jason just said: Was starting to think you were not going to ask. That would have been no fun.

They hook up, sex is amazing, 100/10 would do it again … , and Tim leaves a few $100 bills by the table and just leaves a note with his number saying call me. Tim thinks well… at least maybe this way he knows Tim is still interested to see him again. Tim feels crazy because what has his life come to… and no, is not like this will be a Pretty Woman kind of plot, Jason probably has other people to see and WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM!? He will totally not tell anyone about this and certainly won't tell Bernard how did it go.

Well, Jason never calls him, Tim doesn't have his number, so he can't call him. Not long afterwards Tim has an accident on his bike, the paramedics come get him and Tim sees Jason there. At first Tim thinks maybe he is hallucinating because he totally has a concussion but-

Tim: Jason? what are you doing here?!

Jason: My job?? Didn't Bernard tell you I was a paramedic?

Tim: WHAT? AREN'T YOU A HOOKER!?!?

Jason: What.

Jason has half the mind to not punch Tim because he is having flashbacks of having such an amazing time with this rich kid that seemed nothing like the rest but then he wakes up alone and with money by the bed table. So insulting.

Jason: I'm a fucking PARAMEDIC… now shut the fuck up before I fucking make your injuries worse and lose my license.

Anyway, they clear things up (and Tim cant look at any of the nurses in the eye because they start giggling). Bernard, Ariana and Jason work at the same hospital and Ariana and Jason are good friends. Bernard invited Jason with them, telling him he had a good friend of his who is really cute but pretty lonely and can't find a date since he barely has any time to get himself out there. Jason shot him down at first with thanks but no thanks, but Ariana (Bernard's gf) told him Tim is actually really nice. Since Jason didn't have any plans he ended up accepting.

Jason: So you slept with me…thinking I was a hooker?!

Tim: …. Listen I wasn't going to do any of it, I swear but you were so funny, witty, smart, loved talking to you and in just a few hours I found I really was starting to like you, you were amazing… and didn't matter what you did for a living. I genuinely wanted to see you again and now I'm babbling and not making any sense I'm sorry-

Jason: The fuck is wrong with ya?… after another string of curses

Tim: I- … I'm sorry, I know this is a mess and I understand if you don't want to see me again-

Jason: No, I was talking to myself because for whatever reason I find ya oddly sweet.

Jason: But first, I'm going to do something for myself and slash Bernard's bike tires :)

Tim: Oh, can I join you?

Jason: Sure. It's a date Timbit ;)

#jaytim #timjay #jason todd #tim drake #the dicking can be done by anyone that's up to you #no capes au #not fic #sorry i just wanted Tim to embarrass himself big time #by screaming BUT YOU ARE A HOOKER??#I swear i love my ducky disaster

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runwayrunway · 8 months

Text

THE MAN ON THE TAIL: AN ALASKA AIRLINES WHOISIT

Last time on Runway Runway...

The short answer, reiterated: nobody knows.

The long answer: Nobody knows. A lot of people have no idea or have never even thought about it. Many people have a person in mind they think he resembles, but they know that it's probably wrong. A non-negligible number think they know, but they do not necessarily agree with each other. After the research I have done on the topic, I believe that I do know who this face is, but this is not going to be an argument for my position - merely a presentation of this logo's origins and the theories as to who this face represents, a few thoughts about community and feeling like something is part of yours, and the story of an incredible man.

But first, a content warning, and a disclaimer:

This post will discuss use of an outdated term used to refer to Inuit and Yupik peoples which is broadly considered offensive. It is, unfortunately, inseparable from the story of the face on Alaska Airlines' tailfins. While I have discussed somewhat heavy subjects, including racism, on this blog before, it has generally been in reference to statistics or vague allusions to commonly held offensive sentiments, and I think that discussing a specific word which has caused pain to a group of people requires a little bit more of a specific warning.

Below the cut, there will be discussions surrounding Alaska Airlines' use of said word, with a bit on its broader context. This post is not meant to be a downer, and I don't think it ultimately is. But there is a lot to the story of the "happy face", and there is no use telling the warm and fuzzy parts inside the hood of the parka while ignoring the temperature outside of it. There is so much more to this story than outdated language, but it is still a part of it that can't be left out without overlooking the very people who the tail represents.

I imagine the context of that warning, unfortunately, becomes clear immediately.

Indigenous Alaskans make up 15% of the state's population, made up of various groups of what are called 'circumpolar peoples', who historically lived in the very northernmost habitable parts of the planet - Alaska, Siberia, Greenland, and parts of Canada and Scandinavia. While these groups are broadly somewhat related they are distinct in culture and history.

Alaska, specifically, has over 200 federally recognized tribes, around the same number as is present in the entire rest of the country. (That has its own context, but my point here is to illustrate the diversity of indigenous Alaskan background.) These cultures include the Athabaskan, Aleut, Eyak, and the two that those without personal familiarity tend to think of - the Yup'ik and Iñupiaq. All of these terms themselves further comprise multiple communities, and indeed Yup'ik and Iñupiaq refer to specific groups of peoples from the larger groups of Yupik and Inuit peoples - the groups in question being the ones who live in Alaska rather than Siberia or Canada.

The reason this is important is that it is generally agreed that the face on Alaska Airlines' airplanes is an Alaskan Native, and specifically a member of one of these two groups. A few people apparently assume him to be Abraham Lincoln or Bob Marley or some other famous person (in fact, I am editing this to say that one of the replies to my first post was someone saying they'd always thought it was Abraham Lincoln) but I doubt these theories are ever serious. It would be weird to put a representative from Kentucky on a livery for Alaska Airlines (...which admittedly is based in Washington). The reasons for this assumption are fairly straightforward - it's a reasonable leap from a face surrounded by what looks like a fur hood being identified as Alaskan. But I wouldn't be making this post if the answer was just 'eh, some Alaskan Native'. (And I would find using the generic ornament of an indigenous group as branding more than a little tasteless, in all honesty.) It is broadly thought that this logo is based on the likeness of a specific individual. The question is who.

MEET OUR MYSTERY MAN

So, let's start at the obvious place. He's their logo, so...what does Alaska Airlines say about the identity of this mystery man? Let's take a look at the press release for their 2016 rebrand.

I'll be honest, I wasn't keeping up with airline livery news in 2016. Indeed, I wasn't keeping up with much of anything and I can't recall much from that period. So I...did not know about this, and it took the wind out of me a bit when I learned it happened.

So, let's begin with that term. 'Eskimo'. I feel gross even typing it. This is an exonym used to refer broadly to Yupik and Inuit peoples, though many who use it aren't necessarily aware that the term refers to multiple distinct cultures. I've heard it used for the Alaska Airlines man, and I had always assumed this was out of the ignorance of individual people. I live in the United States, where it's still often used casually (as are a few other unfortunate terms other places avoid - the country seems to have perpetually not gotten the memo, so to speak). In Canada, it is more or less universally considered to be offensive, due to the groups in question expressing their opposition to its use, and this seems to be the general trend over time in the US as well. So while, unfortunately, I do hear people casually say it from time to time, that's mostly annoying classmates. I didn't expect to hear it from Alaska Airlines.

The phrasing, however, is just as much of a problem. 'Our' Eskimo, as a probably unintentional consequence of phrasing choices, implies ownership of not just the logo but the man himself. I don't think I particularly need to explain why some might take issue with this.

And take issue they did. There was a petition! The hashtag #notyoureskimo was started on the website formerly known as Twitter. Anchorage Daily News quotes user angelascox making a statement I think really cuts to the quick of it: "No, @AlaskaAir … you don't own an Eskimo."

Alaska Airlines did listen.

Well, that's..........better, I guess. Unfortunately, it does still use the word 'Eskimo'. And I should note that it isn't universally considered offensive and I've found Alaskan Natives who state that they don't mind use of the term, but these seem to be the minority, and as time goes on it's being phased out further and further. In the context of Alaska Airlines' use, the Anchorage Daily News provides a few perspectives:

Maria Shaa Tlaa Williams, director of the Alaska Native Studies program at the University of Alaska Anchorage and Tlingit, said in an email the broader issue is about the use of "a somewhat antiquated word." "(Eskimo) is a colonial term and it should be: Inupiaq, Yup'ik/Cup'ik, Siberian Yupik or even Inuit, or even generic term such as Alaska Native," she said. Bobbie Egan, media relations director for Alaska Airlines, said the company made the decision to keep using the word "Eskimo" after conducting focus groups with Native leaders throughout Alaska, but she did not have details about those focus group results. "Many of our employees and customers commonly refer to themselves as Eskimo and we've always sought the input and counsel of employees and customers," she said.

I do wish those focus group results were made public, but all the same this isn't particularly surprising. Whenever a term begins to be considered offensive this opinion is generally adopted in a bit of a mosaic fashion, with typically younger people first expressing discomfort and those from different walks of life having their own opinions - some more swayed by the distasteful aspects, while others refuse to let that stop them from using a word they've called themselves their whole life. This is broadly true across all sorts of contexts. I do think it's never an outsider's place to critique someone's choice to use whatever language they feel best represents them, but if there is a large portion of the group in question who find it derogatory we should avoid using it ourselves. There are certainly 'outdated' terms I use for myself but would feel a bit unhappy seeing used carelessly by someone who didn't understand what it meant and was using it, bluntly, because they didn't know better or didn't care to know better. If you are from a group which has historically been derided by others you can probably fill in your own example here.

There are a few reasons for the distaste many have for the word 'Eskimo'. To begin with, it's an exonym. This term was not used as an identifier by any of these groups, but by outsiders to refer to them, and particularly by Europeans and settlers who heard these words from other groups they encountered earlier and then never bothered to ask the people in question what they actually called themselves. Beyond the inherent issue of self-determination, the fact that these were the historical users means that it was often pejorative and othering and ought to be left behind with terms like 'oriental'.

The term is generally thought to have originated from a corruption of an exonym used by one or more Algonquian-speaking groups. The most popular conception is that it stems from a Cree term meaning 'raw meat eater', which people understandably find pretty offensive. There are a number of other theories, and recently linguists seem to most support an interpretation that it is derived from an Innu-aimun word meaning 'one who laces a snowshoe'; it could have evolved from both of these terms or neither, and I don't think it matters when it is already widely perceived as meaning something offensive. 'Well, actually'-ing somebody who says a term is offensive to their ethnic group by pointing out a benign linguistic origin is a pretty pointless thing to do - we've had this conversation before about the name Lufthansa. But beyond that, basically every slur I can think of was once a completely innocuous word that just needed someone to invent a hateful enough way to use it. And people have been using this word rather hatefully for centuries. Regardless of origin, it is a dated exonym, and if the groups it refers to don't feel it represents them that's enough reason for me to stop using it.

The other reason that this term is broadly bad to use is that it's just not a good way of conveying which people you're talking about. 'Eskimo' is generally agreed to encompass Yupik and Inuit peoples, which are two large and diverse populations spread across Siberia and North America. These may be closely related and similar cultures but they are not interchangeable. 'Inuit' has recently seen more frequent use as a replacement, which is at least a step away from the language, but is often outright factually incorrect, as it will be used to refer to Yupik people - who are not Inuit, but are the largest indigenous population in Alaska. 'Alaskan Native' and 'circumpolar peoples' exist as umbrella terms which are understood to be umbrella terms by just about everyone, but there is a legitimate misconception that these groups are all the same because of the use of a single term for them.

Maybe Alaska Airlines uses the term because they think 'Alaskan Native' is awkward for a slogan and they don't want to tie themselves into knots by committing to specifying whether the man is Yup'ik or Iñupiaq. That would be a problem, as they don't actually know who he is.

Beyond the term, there is the issue of objectification on a larger scale than phrasing. Annie Wenstrup, the writer of the petition linked earlier, makes an important point - if the Alaska Airlines man is the likeness of a real person, that person has not been paid for its use. Beyond that, Alaska Airlines is using the very concept of an indigenous Alaskan to market itself. There is definitely a dehumanizing element to it. Alaska Airlines is far from the only company to have ever used ethnic groups as branding, and I think that ultimately it's not my place to linger on this topic. It would be wrong to not mention that this is an element of his story, that people do raise this issue, and that this is a discussion that should be had. I, however, don't have a fully developed opinion. This is a conversation for Alaskan Natives to have, I think - I just don't understand the context of their relationship with the airline specifically, and I have no more ownership of the man pictured than Alaska Airlines. Because he was not an object. There is every likelihood that he was a real person.

WHO IS THE MAN ON THE TAIL?

The website mentions a short film. Unfortunately, the Way Back Machine didn't manage to get it, but it did catch the associated article. The thing this article communicates most clearly is that nobody knows who this man is.

Whether the artists were inspired by [a real person] remains a mystery to this day – both within the company and without – as no official documentation has ever been uncovered indicating that [...] the Eskimo [...] was based on a specific person. Even Alaska’s archivists, a team of retirees and long-time employees passionate about preserving the company’s history, can’t agree.

As someone who is myself studying to be an archivist, I am currently tearing my hair out and flinging tables at people mere decades ago for never keeping any records!!! What is wrong with you people?! Why do you never think of me in the future wanting to know the context of things you probably think are obvious?!

Well, anyway, this might indicate that he's just a generic representation of an Alaskan Native. That would not just be a disappointing answer to this mystery, it would also be pretty offensive. I know that the NFL (an organization known for its racial sensitivity, as I think we're all aware) is a bit slow to catch onto this but I think at this point in history we're all on the same page about using indigenous groups as mascots, right? It's weird and dehumanizing. But that's generally in reference to a stock character based on a stereotype of this group, and often one which is an offensive caricature. Given the percentage of Alaskan Natives in the population, some of whom were certainly involved in making Alaska Airlines what it is, isn't there a chance that this is a loving homage to the group native to the land this airline represents? A way of saying 'this is who this airline connects to faraway places'? I think this was certainly at least the intention, and whether this is still tokenizing, whether the phrasing on the website - a warm, welcoming presence and a reminder of commitment - stirs up an uncomfortable feeling is ultimately a question for Alaskan Natives, and one with a far less unanimous answer than that of outdated terminology.

However, I'll say this up front: he is not a generic representation. He is a specific individual. If he weren't I wouldn't have written a whole post about him.

So let's go all the way back to the beginning. If we do this we find our mystery man was actually not created to be a generic literal face of Alaska Airlines. The intention was not an indigenous mascot, but to represent Alaska's heritage...in more than one way. Mr. Alaska Airlines was once a jellybean.

YOU MIGHT AS WELL PUT HIM ON THE TAILS

image: Vic Warren

In 1972 a set of four new "Alaskana" liveries were introduced for Alaska Airlines' relatively small 727 fleet, replacing the older 'Gold Nugget Jet'. (I will definitely be reviewing those one day.) They were designed by Vic Warren and meant to represent the heritage of Alaska's population, and came in four variants:

"The Prospector" - in red, a miner with his pick, representing the people who flocked to Alaska from the lower 48 during the Gold Rush

"The Totem Pole" - in green, a totem pole design representing Southeast Alaskan indigenous groups such as the Eyak, Tlingit, and Haida - I wish I could be more specific but I can't seem to find the specific totem pole this is based off of

"The Onion Dome" - in fuchsia, today I learned that's actually what those are frequently called! They are meant to represent the history of Russians in Alaska.

And, "The....you know. Him." He's in blue. You may notice he looks a little bit less genial here. , and there's a bit of lighter color detail. No elaboration needed.

It does feel distinctly less tokenizing when there's a white prospector right next to him. In fact, the rephrasing in the quote taken from the archivists is actually because they were referring to both our mystery man and the prospector, whose identity is even more lost to history. This feels quite a bit less sinister than naming your football team a racial slur. It's like if an airline representing Massachusetts (keep reading, Cape Air, this is a free idea for you) had a set of jellybeans featuring a Wampanoag person, a furious man in the process of being given a traffic citation, a whale, a large textile workers' strike, a university-aged Dunkin Donuts employee who can just barely cover the rent at the two-bedroom apartment they share with seven roommates, Giles Corey being pressed to death, Paul Revere, the Harvard University logo, and Tom Brady. It goes from feeling exclusively dehumanizing to

Over the years, though, use of the other three designs dropped off. I'm not sure why it did (well, I can hazard a guess about the Onion Dome) but that's just the reality. Maybe the totem I understand being difficult to immediately identify as a totem when it's in monocolor with little detail on a large plane. I do think it's a bit of a shame - I love jellybeans and I love representing more than one culture in a place as large as Alaska - but I get it, their fleet was small.

As for why our mystery man won the deadlock with the Prospector, that's beyond me, but it almost feels like it was destined given he was the initial basis for the concept at all. Again from Vic Warren:

The first time the Eskimo art was used was in a large newspaper ad promoting Arctic Tours. [...] Since it was a newspaper ad, the initial appearance of the Eskimo was as a large, strong black image. The marketing director at Alaska hated it, even though the ad performed well. [...] A few months later, [I was] given the assignment to create a new corporate image for the airline [...] At this time the airline [...] only flew from Seattle to Alaska and within Alaska. They had recently moved their headquarters from Anchorage to Seattle and were taking a lot of political flak for abandoning Alaska. Our direction from the airline was to “create something very distinctive and modern, yet totally Alaskan.” In retrospect, it sounds easy, but I worked for three months on every kind of jet design I could think of. [...] the airline’s account executive was sitting with me in my office. [...] He stood up and stomped out of the room, shouting, “Oh, to hell with it! You might as well put that damned Eskimo on the tails!” Ta-daaaaaa! [...] I looked at the history and culture of Alaska and came up with four designs [...] But it shortly became evident that the Eskimo was the most popular image. And it was expensive to use all those different designs, so the other three left.

And thus Mr. Alaska Airlines was brought on board properly. And people were very attached to him. The thing mentioned earlier, that the airline was getting flak for losing their Alaskan identity - that comes back later in 1988, when the airline considered replacing him with a logo of a stylized mountain in the shape of the letter A. People hated this new logo so much I cannot even find a picture of it. This attempted replacement was for reasons unrelated to the criticisms I've mentioned earlier - he looked bad when printed small, was difficult to recognize, and might suggest to the people of California that Alaska Airlines only flew to Alaska. People were so incensed about this idea, however, that the state legislature decided this was a problem for them to tackle. From the LA Times:

The Alaska Legislature, which went into session on Monday, will consider a resolution asking the Seattle-based airline not to junk the colorful logo for one featuring a stylized mountain, said state Sen. Tim Kelly of Anchorage. [...] Alaska’s 20 state senators have voiced support for the resolution, he said.

Do they not have anything better to do with their time? No...zoning laws or tax brackets or ordinances? I mean, they've got some experience in aviation, I guess - they did make it illegal to push a moose out of a plane, or to look at moose from a plane. You also can't get a moose drunk. Actually, they have a lot of oddly specific moose-related laws, which I think is a form of environmental storytelling. You also can't wake up a sleeping bear to take a photograph of it. Safety is a priority, though - it's illegal to sell a child a stun gun and you need a concealed-carry permit for slingshots, so their priorities are clearly in important places.

Regardless, one thing Kelly said stood out to me. Emphasis mine:

“It may not be the best representation of an Eskimo, but it’s our Eskimo,” he said. “(Alaskans) feel an affinity with the airline. Alaskans feel it’s their airline.”

Okay, so this could be one of two things: a coincidence (more plausible, I guess, since it's not that weird of a combination of words) or an intentional reference to this statement by the company, which I think I would respect a bit more - a nod to history, all that - but if this is the case it seems quite strange they wouldn't have mentioned it as context for the use of their phrase when apologizing for it. Not important, just wanted to bring it up.

Despite the fact that the airline got a letter of support - “a graphic designer who is related to a pilot thought it was good"- they obviously did not replace him. Vic Warren actually weighed in himself on the topic:

My position was that if the airline’s image was confusing, it was because of the name Alaska Airlines, not the Eskimo logo. If they wanted to be a more amorphous regional carrier they should change their name to a version in the Air West mold or, at any rate, something less specific than Alaska.

And I do think I agree with him. You can choose between being relatable to everyone or having a heritage, making your brand just as much about where you started as where you are. I prefer the latter, but I have the opposite mindset of an airline. I am all about history and expression, and don't remotely care about attracting customers or making money. There is a reason Alaska Airlines doesn't have a tumblr blog.

“The Eskimo is a friendly, human symbol of the north, of the spirit of Alaska,” wrote Satch Carlson, an Anchorage Daily News columnist. “Take him off the Alaska planes in favor of some abstract, hip, meaningless design, you’re taking one step closer to that impersonal austerity that characterizes most other airlines today.”

...wow, so even in '88 they were tired of Eurowhite, it seems.

THAT LOGO THAT LOOKS LIKE MY TIO

So of course they kept the face. He got tweaked over the years - the 'fly with a happy face' campaign adjusted him to look a little bit less stoic, and of course the details were updated as graphics technology improved. But this is The Alaska Airlines Guy now. People are attached to him. An interesting effect of this attachment, though, is that a lot of people are pretty sure they know who he is, and that he's from their town.

People already recognize him as any number of a massive slew of celebrities. I find this extra fascinating because I actually have congenital prosopagnosia - I cannot recognize human faces, and while I can generally identify people in daily life by context like voice, posture, fashion sense, and hair, recognizing people from photographs is far more difficult. Unless I have two pictures next to each other and can compare the individual features it's basically useless - I never get that sort of 'click' of recognition - so it's been really interesting reading all the different associations people had, of which I have seen literally dozens if not hundreds. Reddit user DaBigBird27, in one of my favorite anecdotes, relates an experience where he was told by an LAX employee to look for the logo that looks like "his tio". And isn't it incredibly fascinating how that works? How you can tell someone you've only just met to find the picture that looks like your tio, and they'll know what you mean?

Look, there's something about grandfathers. I don't know what it is. (Uncles too, probably - I don't have any, though.) I hope I'm not insane for saying this, so any other grandfather enjoyers can weigh in, but I feel like grandfathers occupy a certain formative place in everyone's mind. He is one's earliest exposure to an old man and thus becomes their fundamental conception of one. Unless he is phenomenally cruel this ties him together, part and parcel, with the features of old men that can bring you comfort and happiness. I certainly experience this with my grandfather, despite having known him for a really tragically short length of time. If I were able to recognize faces, I think there's a very real chance that I would have thought the Alaska Airlines man was him for a moment.

And this seems extra true for those from Alaska. The Anchorage Daily News continues to provide a lot of anecdotes of locals discussing the universal feeling of proximity to the logo.

Perry Eaton, an Alutiiq artist who is originally from Kodiak Island but now lives in Anchorage, said that some people insist they know the Eskimo's true identity. "It's always been sort of a tongue-in-cheek conversation," Eaton said. "Nobody's gotten emotional over it, it's just sort of interesting. He's very iconic. Some folks are adamant that they know who it is."

“If you’re from Barrow, you think maybe he’s from Barrow. If you’re from Kotzebue, you think maybe he’s from Kotzebue. If you’re from Nome, you think maybe he’s from Nome,” says former mayor Lukin. “I have not met an Eskimo elder who doesn’t sort of smile like that.”

Another piece of writing, although accompanying a story that (as far as I can tell) is fiction, or at least dramatization, contains some context that is definitely not:

By the way, that page also had a lively discussion which included a number of other theories about the origin of the image, a number of people claiming a family relationship with the person depicted [...] Whatever the case, the image has obviously evolved and become less stern over the years. When the image was digitized there were further touch-ups and adjustments made. Most sources agree, though, that a remarkable number of native Alaskan people say that the person: “looks just like my grandfather!”

Even Alaska Airlines' own (archived) website describes this phenomenon.

“When I was a little kid, we all thought it was our own grandfathers,” says former Kotzebue mayor Maija Lukin. “We all thought it was our tata. Even if it didn’t remotely look like our grandfathers.”

Well, let me finally get to the point, because at least some of these people are correct. While he was intended to represent Alaskan Natives as a whole, the man was based on the likeness of a real person. There are two leading theories thought to be plausible. Both were real Alaskan Natives with ties to aviation who lived memorably in the proper timeframe to have inspired the logo.

CHESTER SEVECK

I'll begin with Chester (his full name seems to have been Chester Asagaq Seveck Downey but he is most frequently called Chester Seveck), who is the more common theory. (And indeed the man on the tail is frequently referred to as 'Chester' by people who think this.) The above-quoted Kotzebue mayor, for example, is convinced it's Chester, who was himself a Kotzebue resident. It's a remote place which relies on air travel to provide necessities, and Chester was said to have greeted passengers and crew as they left the airplanes together with his wife. He was often mentioned to be a reindeer herder, but I was afraid that this would be all I could find about this man who clearly was beloved by so many people that to this day he's remembered this widely.

Thankfully, unlike so many people who pass into history with only vague and distant reference to memorialize their full and remarkable lives, Chester Seveck has written a memoir, published by a bush pilot who considered him a close friend. It's called Longest Reindeer Herder and is available in its entirety for free, with the pilot and friend in question, Frank Whaley, including a selection of photographs he himself took of Chester. I really recommend everyone read it. It's not very long but it's extremely dense with information, giving a first-hand account of the development of airborne connections between remote regions from the side that doesn't normally get to tell their story. It also tells a lot about Chester, his family, and the incredible things which happened to him. One that really stuck with me was the time he was shot with a rifle but unharmed, because his parka absorbed the force of an entire bullet! It reads almost like a journal, very matter-of-fact and brief recounting of events which would have at the time been whirlwinds of emotions and little details now lost to the steady flow of history, but all of this was put to paper at once, and it's staggering just how much one life really is, how much we can learn from just some of one man's memories. About him, about the world he lived in, and about reindeer herding.

When it comes to aviation, Chester's experiences are a joy to read. He recounts his first time coming to the US, together with his wife.

Then Jack Whaley take us to Los Angeles. We flew in night time. We saw the lights down under us. I remember when we newly married in the year 1912 July 12th, I was dreaming my wife and I we saw the stars and sky under us. We were above the sky and stars I told my wife. Now my dream come true.

Eventually Chester, too old to continue his work with massive herds of reindeer, retired and began to work for Wien Airlines, traveling for promotional tours and guiding tours in Kotzebue. He refers to this as 'herding tourists'.

There are stories of the Lower 48, too, of the tours he went on with his wife. He mentions appearing with Steve Allen, Art Linkletter, and even Groucho Marx. He appeared in a minor role in "Ice Palace" (1960), a very poorly reviewed film which also happened to be the motion picture debut of one George Takei.

The final section of his memoir:

For long live and joy life, I believe these things--Keep busy and do good work. Have much good exercise. Eat good food, no waste anything and every day enjoy what it gives and do not spoil this day with much worry of tomorrow. Be happy. I know this way how I be "Longest Reindeer Herder." Start 1908, finish 1954, altogether 46 years herd reindeer.

Chester was undeniably a gregarious person. He seemed to really genuinely enjoy the high profile his partnership with Wien brought him, not for any material gains but because seeing the world and showing it to other people made him happy. He had a high opinion of himself that he wasn't afraid to share but there wasn't an ounce of pompousness in it; he just knew what he was worth. He loved talking about himself and his story - I found at least one other interview he gave. If more people were like Chester I think the world would be a much happier place. I really envy the people who got to have him show them around Kotzebue.

His memoirs were taken down in 1973, and the ending sort of reads as if he's right at the end of his life, but that's not true. He lived until 1981, dying ten days after his ninety-first birthday. He has many living descendants, with 172 grandchildren and great-grandchildren at the time he wrote his memoir. I actually saw a couple of them in the wild while researching, talking about growing up and being told he was the face on the airplanes.

Chester is by far the most common claim for the Alaska Airlines face. People from Kotzebue are proud of this. I saw another Reddit commentor, who has since deleted their account, mentioning their mother telling them about him growing up.

I think Chester is a fantastic person to feature. His connection to aviation and his warmth and kindness, eagerly welcoming tourists into his home village, makes him a fantastic symbol of Alaska. This post has been my favorite to research of any I've written. Reading people's warm memories of BWIA and learning about the incredible history of aviation in Sri Lankan folklore are both things I cherish, but reading Chester's account of his own life was genuinely almost overpowering. I am a history student. Sure, I study public history specifically, but I still study history. I read about history. I read long textbooks, in-depth research documents, and primary sources. I read old newspapers, memoirs, observations by travelers. My sophomore seminar was an in-depth study of remarkably preserved legal documents from one specific witch trial in 17th-century Germany. It's rare that something comes around like Chester's memoir that reminds me how much I adore humans. We have always had so much to give. There is a legitimate debate about the ethics of Alaska Airlines monetizing the likeness of an indigenous group, but I'm happy that they put a face on their tails if only because it means I got to read Chester's writing. I wish more people did.

But there's one other person frequently speculated to be the face of Alaska Airlines, and it would be remiss not to discuss him.

OLIVER AMOUACK

There is less available about Oliver than there is about Chester - at least, less I could find. He appears to have lived from 1895 to 1987, and unlike Chester, who I only ever saw called 'Eskimo', Oliver was known to be Iñupiaq. In the 1950s he was a performer in a travelling show called "It's Alaska!", but that's about all you can find with search engines.

image: Alaska Airlines Corporate Archives This is more or less the only image of Amouack I could find. He's the man on the left. Look familiar? That's not a rhetorical question. I'm face-blind.

That isn't all there is to be found, but what else there is I don't have access to at present. Brenda Ritchey, Oliver's granddaughter, has written a biography of him - "Know the Happy Face: Biography of Oliver Amouak", published 1997. The thing is, this book is crazy hard to get your hands on. Buying a copy is definitely way out of my price range. It's hard to find them for double-digit dollar amounts, and they go up over a thousand. There are several copies held by public libraries but most are in Alaska, which is pretty far away from me. Thankfully, there is one in a collection in New York, and I'm trying to get it on interlibrary loan. If I can get access to it, I'll make a follow-up post, hopefully adding context to Oliver's story like I did for Chester's. Clearly, his granddaughter thought it was worth telling.

Although Oliver is the less frequent claim, a few people are very confident that it's him. And it is impossible to prove conclusively whether it's him or Chester, or neither...or is it?

POINTING THE FINGER

This is where history ends and speculation begins. What you read from here is not fact - it is my own conjecture, made by someone with around a week's worth of research - someone who is literally unable to distinguish human faces, no less - and I encourage questioning it. But I'm going to make my argument: I am loosely convinced that the face on Alaska Airlines' airplanes is, in fact, Oliver Amouack.

The first set of reasons are contextual. Oliver, when he was in "It's Alaska!", was directly employed by Alaska Airlines, while Chester, though he did greet tourists for the airline, seemed to have much closer ties to Wien Air Alaska. If someone was looking for inspiration in Alaska Airlines' archives I think it's far more likely that they would have stumbled on Oliver's likeness than Chester's.

The second is, admittedly, rather weak, but I still feel it's worth mentioning. While the modern "happy face" is smiling, the original Alaskana image was not.

Take a look. This man is very poised, but he's also definitely got a bit of a stern look.

Now, while there do exist images of Chester Seveck where he isn't smiling, they are rare and mostly candid, taken while he's focused on doing something, like herding reindeer or singing, and often faced mostly away from the camera. They also tend to be from when he was younger, which the man in the image is clearly not. Given how frequently he was seen looking overjoyed just to be wherever he was, I find it a little bit unlikely that Chester would inspire an image I would go so far as to describe as 'frowning'.

image: Vic Warren

Now that's a bit more like Chester, but this isn't the original image. Rather, it's a later edit to make him smile, for Alaska's "fly with a happy face" campaign. I find it somewhat hard to believe that, were this Chester, it would have needed editing at all.

I also think that, were he to be the basis for the image, Chester would have brough it up when putting down his story. His memoir is from 1973, and the livery was introduced in 1972 with an even earlier newspaper ad featuring the same image. Chester had the healthiest high self-esteem I've seen in my life and he would definitely have mentioned this with pride. Maybe he was never told, but I suspect if this were the case he would have asked about it. It would be a little hard to not notice your own face on an airplane while greeting its occupants.

There's a major spanner in the works, though. That spanner is Vic Warren, designer of the initial Alaskana liveries, himself. Although it is no longer up, the Way Back Machine has helped me find an old post on his blog, discussing the logo and his design process. When I quoted him earlier, that's where I got it from. And he does kneecap my theory quite a bit - he outright states it's Chester.

Back in 1973, when I designed the Eskimo, an elderly Eskimo gentleman in Kotzebue was working as a greeter for the airline on its Arctic Tours. You got off the plane in Kotzebue and he was one of the folks who came up and helped you into a fur-trimmed parka to protect you from the cold. It was sort of an Eskimo version of the Hawaiian lei. We had photos of him and others during the welcoming procedure. I used one of those photos as the basis for the art. His name was Chester Seveck Downey. Surprisingly, lots of rumors have announced that the art was based on all sorts of people, including Richard Nixon. Once, I heard a story that he was really Bob Marley!

So that should settle it, right? Maybe. Actually, though, I think Vic Warren may be misremembering. I don't mean to gaslight this artist who created an extremely recognizable and enduring logo, but he already states that the design was done in 1973, which is impossible because the liveries were introduced in 1972. He actually gives 1973 as a date throughout the post multiple times, even though I've seen it claimed the design was in the works as early as 1970. The post was first written in 2014, so I think it's perfectly reasonable for your memory to slip over 40 years.

Getting a date slightly wrong and forgetting who you based a logo on are two different levels, but I'd like to further argue my earlier point - if the reference truly was Chester greeting passengers I am absolutely sure he would have been smiling, and I can't imagine why Warren would have changed this in his art. I think it's possible he misremembered, and I also think it's possible he assumed the photograph of Oliver was of Chester somehow. Far be it from me to accuse someone I've never met of racism, but, look, most people fail implicit association tests. I think it is entirely plausible a (presumably) white man contracted by an airline he didn't work for personally could see a photograph of one indigenous man and just assume that it was of a different one he was more familiar with, especially if Oliver and Chester have similar faces, which I assume people who can tell think they do.

I don't think any of that conjecture is particularly convincing. I wouldn't personally be convinced by it. The burden of proof here is a lot higher than 'maybe he was confused'. But what finally swayed me to believing Amouack is most likely our man was a post on, of all sites, the digital sewer pipe known as Quora.

An aside: Quora has introduced a feature where at the top of the page you are given a response by ChatGPT. While this is going to give you an answer of higher quality than many of those provided by the 'human' users of the website, I find the answer it generated for this question both incredibly factually wrong and somewhat disrespectful.

So the most obvious thing is that ChatGPT is misgendering Oliver/Chester. This immediately makes it clear that this answer is fully nonsense to basically anyone sentient, though it still may well fool some Quora users. The 'names' given, Tlingit and Haida, are both those of indigenous Pacific Northwest peoples. As in ethnicities, not individuals. Fred Kabotie was a real person, and a real artist, and accomplished and prolific, and someone you should absolutely learn about, but he was not Tlingit - he was Hopi. As in, from Arizona.

image: Grand Canyon National Park

I am rather confident Fred Kabotie has nothing to do with Alaska Airlines.

What really disturbs me is that, while there is an option to ask more questions in an app, and an option to downvote, there is no place to state that the information given is wrong, never mind to correct it. Even the app formerly known as Twitter has that.

Beyond that, there's no way to give this feedback to the bot. Downvoting isn't the same thing as actual negative reinforcement. This means that there is no way to stop the bot from giving the same answer to the same question in the future, even though it is wrong, and even though in this particular case a major aspect of its wrongness is that it seems to believe all North American indigenous people are one coherent group to the point it considers Hopi the same category as Iñupiaq, which is a bit like lumping together Spain and Norway.

So, not to pontificate, but this is one of the reasons ChatGPT is so potentially dangerous. It can generate text which seems quite a bit like an answer while being completely gibberish, and it could certainly fool people. Deep-learning algorithms, as of right now, are not capable of fact-checking. You should never rely on them for answers.

Besides that, though, there are actual human responses. Most of them are, as you may expect of Quora, total dreck. But sandwiched in between someone who seemed to be under the impression that it's ambiguous if Chester was from Kotzebue or Nome and someone who appeared to believe the term 'prop' didn't encompass turboprops was an answer given by Keith Holmes, whose qualifications are 'knows Dutch'.

That doesn't sound promising, but he actually came with evidence. I'm going to give you the short version, but you should read his answer. Here is his method:

He took the original image of the logo, then flipped it horizontally to match the image of Oliver Amouack from the It's Alaska! poster.

Then he overlaid them and very slowly lowered the opacity. Like, it's torturously slow, so I'll just show some 'keyframes', but that slowness means that even I, faceblind as I am, could clearly see that they line up nearly perfectly.

In the 1970s, this process would have been done with physical paint. But nowadays it's incredibly easy to just up the contrast and lower the saturation on an image. So Holmes (aptly named) did precisely this.

...yeah. I mean, there he is. I think we found him.

AN IDENTITY UNCOVERED

So, there it is. People's opinions vary about who this man is and whether he should be on the tails at all, but I think it's Oliver Amouack. But I want to finish off this post, which has had its ups and downs, on a somewhat open-ended yet positive note.

No matter who this face is, there are people who love him. And I'm not talking about people who love making money off him, or about senators. I mean regular Alaskans. Even Annie Wenstrup, in the original text of her petition, acknowledged that there is a warm fuzzy feeling that people have about him. Though its inclusion is definitely potentially a bit sinister, the Alaska Airlines page discussing the history of the logo released concurrently with the rebrand touches on it.

“When I see that face, I feel proud. I feel like I’m home,” says Sallee Baltierra, a concierge in Alaska’s Anchorage Board Room airport lounge. “I love to see that Eskimo on the tail in other cities that we fly to, from Liberia, Costa Rica to Nashville, Tennessee. It makes me feel like there’s a little piece of home there waiting for me.”

The ethics of how it is done in this particular case are worth discussing, and whether the logo as it stands now should be retired is not something I am in a position to weigh in on. For better or worse the happy face is part of Alaska Airlines' history. The mystery has been put out there for people to solve, and it won't go away if they take him off the planes.

And while there are good reasons, reasons I agree with, that people scoff at the idea of representation being the same thing as justice, particularly when those with no skin in the game are making millions off it, Alaskan Natives are most of the history of Alaska, and they have propped up Alaska Airlines from its earliest days. They have been pilots, cabin crew, ground crew, maintenance, customer service, passengers, and, yes, tour guides. They have been there from the earliest days of McGee Airways, and when Alaska Airlines finally goes under they will be there on its very last flight. There is a difference between acknowledgment and objectification, and that line is not one for me to draw, but it is at least good that the question of who this man is can lead people to the stories of the real people who are so often forgotten.

The fact that I believe the happy face is Oliver doesn't make that reality. It could well be Chester. It could be someone else. It could be your grandfather. It definitely isn't my grandfather, but I showed my mother a picture and she did say that he looks very much like my grandfather...we are not Alaskan Native, I think it goes without saying. I don't think anyone I'm related to has ever even been to Alaska.

But I think there's something positive to be taken from his anonymity to most of the world. There are certainly negatives, the sticking points of profit and objectification, but were it not for the fact that there was a mystery here to dive down I would have never known Chester Seveck existed, never mind read his memoir. I wouldn't have known Oliver Amouack existed either, and I hope I can read his memoir too. If there is any reason for me to 'well, actually' someone who says the face is definitely Chester - and I'm not sure there is - it wouldn't be because it isn't him, but because I want to give Oliver the same recognition.

And I hope other people wonder who the face is, and look for the answer online. My blog isn't very large, and I'm entirely happy with that. I love writing my incredibly niche posts about airlines, and I'm not doing this with any expectation or hope of fame. But given the small amount of articles on the topic I hope that my blog shows up in the search engine results, maybe on the second or third page, and that maybe it can direct someone to Chester's story. I am overjoyed to have read it and I want other people to read it too. His life was a unique and meaningful one and I am grateful that he chose to share it with the world. I am excited to pass it on to all of you.

I set out to find the identity of the man on Alaska Airlines' livery. What I found was the story of a man who touched far more than Alaska Airlines. The happy face could be anyone. He could be your grandfather. He could be (and probably is) Brenda Ritchey's grandfather. In a sense I think, although his literal family should be compensated for use of his likeness, he is your grandfather - not because he is literally your grandfather, but because he carries that poised warmth that so many grandfathers have. I think there is a real benefit to leaving this open-ended - at least enough to keep that mystique that drives people to make that Google search and learn about the overlooked and thought-to-be-nameless indigenous men who make Alaska what it is. Maybe the real happy face was the grandfathers we thought he resembled along the way.

And Alaska Airlines be damned, Chester Seveck herded reindeer for 46 years and had his dream of stars and sky beneath him come true. That's more valuable, to me, than having a famous picture based on you. Pictures reflect reality, but Chester was real, and it is accounts like his which make history human.

#double sunrise #alaska airlines #era: 1970s #jellybeans #region: north america #region: united states

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theshelbyclan · 5 months

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Merry Christmas, Thura 😊 I know it’s probably not happening and you don’t have the time, but could you maybe just for me, as a small Christmas present, write a few lines about Teddy and the Shelbys during Christmas? 😍😍

Thank you sweet Anon, and I wish you all the best too and a blessed Christmas! Just for you, here’s a small bit (just don’t expect too much of it). This takes place shortly after the war, so Teddy’s like 8 in this.

*****

In the bleak midwinter

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan…

It was the day of Christmas Eve and Tommy stood outside their house at Watery Lane, quietly smoking a cigarette. He looked up at the sky, where thick grey clouds were gathering: snow was coming in. That was all he needed.

The Shelby’s didn’t celebrate Christmas this year and, if he had anything to do with it, they never would again. They’d celebrated before the war, but after the war, there was no Christmas anymore. The fields of Flanders hadn’t allowed it, Small Heath didn’t allow it and most of all, Tommy no longer allowed it.

Christmas was dead. No more hope and no more light. All there was left now, was: in the bleak midwinter.

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone…

Arthur came approaching and Tommy looked up. He knew it before he’d opened his mouth: there was trouble.

“There’s been some trouble at the Garrison, Tom,” Arthur explained, “Couple of boys tried raiding the place, knocked Harry about, broke half the bloody bottles in there too.”

Tommy nodded slowly, “So what is it you want from me, Arthur, eh?”

“What do we do, Tom?”

“You know what to do,” he flicked his cigarette away, “Cut them.”

The oldest Shelby nodded, but the hesitation was written all over his face.

“What is it?” Tommy demanded.

“They’re just kids.”

“Kids who fucked with us.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just…”

“For fuck’s sake, Arthur! Just get on with alright? Just grow a fucking backbone for once and get it done.”

“Alright, Tom, we’ll get it done.”

“I don’t have time for fucking soft sentiment, alright?” Tommy growled.

Snow was falling, snow on snow, snow on snow…

Meanwhile, John was working over the books. He tried to get as much done as he possibly could during the day, before he got really drunk.

He looked out the window and saw some children playing in the snow. He looked for Finn and Teddy amongst them, but couldn’t find them.

One boy threw a snow ball at a factory worker, who then slipped and fell over. He cursed loudly and all the children ran away and laughed. John couldn’t help himself and stifled a laugh too.

But then he remembered the bodies piled up in the snow. And somehow, he could see the blood mixed in with the whiteness in Birmingham too. In seconds, the moment had lost all its purity. Now it was just death and decay, hidden in ice.

He took another swig and continued his numbers.

In the bleak midwinter, long, long ago.

“Church starts at nine.”

Tommy coughed a laugh and looked up at his aunt, but her eyes seemed set.

“Arthur and John are coming too.”

Probably not by choice, Tommy thought. And he added, “I have no business with church, Pol, and nothing to discuss with God.” He practically spit the last word.

Polly shrugged, “I’m sure he has one or two things to say to you. You’re going, end of discussion. Teddy is singing.”

Tommy looked up in surprise, “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“I bribed her. Be there at nine.”

What can I give him, poor as I am?

And so the Shelby’s turned up at the church at nine. Not because they wanted to, but because the holy saint Polly Gray, enforcer of all things fearful, had ordered them to. At least Arthur had brought the bottle with him.

People piled into the church slowly, but they left the front most pews empty for the Shelby’s.

Tommy sighed deeply. He had better things to do. They had business to do and money to make. There was no way he was going back to poverty. There was no way he was going to let them walk all over them again.

Because, when they were in the mud, where was God then?

If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb…

John elbowed Tommy and pointed, big grin on his face. When he followed his gaze, he saw one very pissed off little girl in a white dress, standing off to the side near the altar.

Teddy was not happy, and it showed in every way she held herself. Tommy couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Polly must’ve offered her some money…”

“Better still,” Arthur whispered lowly, “She promised her a horse.”

“She always knew how to bargain,” he said not without pride, “Innocent as she may be, she knows how to get whatever the fuck she wants.”

“Innocent?” John laughed, “She’s about as innocent as a wolf in sheep’s clothes. She changed though, Tommy, after we left.”

“Yes, she did. France fucked her up too, even though she’s never even been away from Small Heath.” Bitterness crept into Thomas’ voice.

He never wanted any of that for her. He wanted her to stay small and sweet forever. But he knew that was gone already.

If I were a wise man, I would do my part…

“Move over,” Ada hissed, as she unceremoniously joined them in the pew. “Now will you look at this, the whole family together at church. What the fuck.” Sometimes it was like Ada was physically incapable of speaking without sarcasm.

“Then why are you here?”

“Teddy’s singing. She hates it, so I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” And when her brothers stared at her reproachfully, she added, “Just doing what any good sister would do.”

They were quiet for a little while, but then Arthur leaned over John and told Tommy, “Tomorrow at 11, we’re meeting with that importer I told you about. Charlie’s yard.”

Tommy nodded.

Arthur opened his mouth to talk, but one slap from Polly made him close it again. “No business at church.”

“Why not, aunt Pol?” Ada challenged, “Looking at the size of those golden statues, they’ve done some pretty good business themselves.”

“Ada…” Polly warned.

“Oh I’m sorry,” she continued in her bored tone of voice, “Isn’t that what Christmas is all about? The rich not giving to the poor, but instead celebrating no longer having to?”

Tommy lowered his head to hide his grin. He never liked to admit it, but he had a soft spot for his sisters. They were smarter then all the men he knew combined and they always, always, had something to say.

Life would be incredibly boring, without his sisters doing their part in making his life hell.

But what can I give him? Give him my heart.

The service finally started and the whole procession of pomp and circumstance started. One by one, the Shelby’s sighed deeply and resigned themselves to the next hour.

But after all of that, Teddy stepped forward. She shuffled around a little, uncomfortable, and pulled on her robe that apparently got stuck behind the altar.

She looked back at Finn, who got roped into being an altar boy, and he nudged her forwards again.

Tommy made eye contact with her and nodded. Teddy sighed and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll bet you a pound she’s going to bolt,” John giggled.

“Shut up,” Tommy replied, “I want to hear her.”

And he actually did. It was strange how all his grumpiness and pessimism seemed to have fallen away. And he looked over to John and Arthur, both sending Teddy reassuring smiles. They looked nothing like the bored bastards they’d been only seconds ago. And even Ada, sarcastic detached Ada, fixed her slouch and leaned forward in anticipation. Maybe this is what Christmas was after all: in the middle of the whole fucking chaos of the world falling down around your ears, dropping everything, because your little sister has to sing. And actually feeling warm about it too.

So Teddy breathed in deeply and started to sing, in perfect pitch and angelic voice:

In the bleak midwinter…

#peaky blinders #teddy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fluff #Tommy Shelby #John Shelby #shelby!sister #ada shelby #sister shelby #finn shelby #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #peaky #peaky Christmas

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writersblog20 · 2 years

Text

Moonlight and soft touches

Chris Evans x reader

Not my gif, creds to the maker!

Summary: When the heat gets too much and you weren’t able to sleep, you and Chris decided to go on a little adventure in the middle of the night and have a midnight swim to cool off. But you’ve never expected it to be this intimate.

Warnings: age-gap but appropriate, mention of chronic nightmares, quick mention of daddy issues, SOFTCHRIS, self-conscious and insecurity, SMUT, soft smut tho, a LOT of sexual tension! Sensual sex, neediness, public sex ( but nobody is around), sex in the water, P in V, fingering, no condom (zon’t zo it.) creampies, cum eating, eating you out, blowjob, deepthroat, doggystyle, very intimate and soft sex. It’s very sensual and romantic. Praise kink and probably more stuff but nothing too shocking

Words: 6K

A/N: Whoeh i'm feeling soft today💗💜🥵

Moonlight and soft touches

It was a extreme hot day and now night. Chris had stayed with you for a couple of days now, he was very good friends with your uncle and your uncle was his bodyguard. Normally he would stay at your uncles house but he had to get things done for his home so they both stayed for a while with you. Well, your uncle just left for the airport and would be gone for a couple of days.

Anyway, you were extremely shy around Chris and what seemed like every time, just flabbergasted. You lived alone in your mothers house, since she moved in with her boyfriend so that’s why your uncle came up to you and let’s be honest, some help for the house financially wasn’t very unwanted.

You were so tired but the heat in your room was just unbearable. You already had the fan at its highest but to no avail. You turned around once again, unable to lay still. Somehow, magically you finally fell asleep but in some sort of wake/nightmare state. It was very confusing but you weren’t sleeping very deep but still had a nightmare. You shot up straight in bed, now completely soaked in sweat and your heart pounding against your chest. You rubbed your face from the sweat and your pillow was damp. You looked at your phone and you hadn’t even been sleeping for an hour.

With a groan you let your head fall back into the warm pillow and stared at the ceiling, trying to regain your breath before getting out of bed, knowing that sleeping in your room wasn’t happening tonight. You walked down in your bikers shorts and a crop top, hearing voices from the tv. You took a glance towards your couch and your eyes were met with those of Chris while you got a glass out of your cabinets. “Hey” he said softly, apparently also unable to sleep.

“Hey” you told him back with a soft smile. You got some lemonade and walked towards the couch before letting yourself fall on it, Chris eyes still on you. “Can’t sleep either?” he asked you before looking lazily back at the tv. “No, or well, I was for over an hour but had a nightmare.” You told him and he looked back at you sympathetically. Every time he had asked you how you’ve slept you would answer with nightmares. “You have them a lot?” he asked you curious now.

“Eh yeah…. Since over a year I have them nonstop. Chronic nightmares, the doctor calls them. It’s really annoying.” You chuckled the last part a little awkwardly. “I can imagine.” He still looked at you surprised. “What about you?” you asked him and looked at him but quickly became shy again so looked away. “The heat.” He told you and chuckled, making you chuckle as well. “Yeah… it’s really bad.” Chris nodded.

You both got your attention towards the tv and there was something trashy on tv, probably ex on the beach or something and you looked surprised at Chris “Before you’re gonna say something, there wasn’t really anything else on tv.” He told you and you chuckled in response. You slouched more into the cushions, hoping that a bit of wind from the garden would come your way. Chris looked at you and checked you out. Once you noticed, you grew shy and flustered again. Chris noticed that you saw him checking you out and gave you a polite smile, trying to correct himself and you shot him a polite, shy smile back.

Both sweating your asses off and watching some tv wasn’t really working for your sleep. You were so incredibly tired but unable to get some rest and sleep and it was frustrating you to no end. You huffed and puffed trying, hoping to speed the process of falling asleep. Chris noticed your irritation of not getting any sleep which he gave hope up a couple of hours ago. “you okay?” he asked you, earning another huff from you. “I’m just so frustrated that I can’t get any fucking sleep right now even though I’m fucking exhausted” you couldn’t help but curse from absolute frustration and anger. Chris looked sympathetically at you and tried to give you a soft smile while you rubbed your temples in, once again, frustration.

“I could really go for a swim right now….” you told him nonchalant. Chris nodded and looked at the tv but wasn’t really watching the show. He was deep in thoughts before speaking up. “You’ve told me about that lake, where you and your friends go to in the summer…. Is that far from here?” he asked you. You looked with a wondering look at him. “No not really but you do have to go by car.” You told him and he nodded. “Okay…. Well I mean, I can drive. Do you want to go? Because honestly, I could go for a swim as well…” he told you with a smile, up for adventure and the impulsive thought did bring some excitement in your stomach.

I mean, going on a late night swim with The Chris Evans, where you can see his bare body in real life, showing his tatts while the full moon kissed his perfect skin and the intimate idea of only the two of you….. “Yeah, I’m in!” you told him. You and Chris stood up at the same time to get changed, gather your stuff, some drinks, snacks and put them in a cooler before putting everything in the jeep.

“You ready sweetheart?” Chris asked you and it was the first time that he gave you a nickname. You felt your heart flutter and nodded, completely full of excitement from this late night adventure, giving you the complete feeling of a summer vacation and not needed to do a thing. You happily got in the car and Chris immediately noticed the change in your mood and chuckled. “So I guess this is a good idea huh?” he told you more than asked. “Yeah, definitely.” You giggled and couldn’t wait to get there.

Chris opened the windows and drove off while listening to some music. You let your hand rest outside the car and you couldn’t feel more free and alive at this point, feeling completely aligned right now. Chris couldn’t stop smiling from your happiness as he let his hand rest on the side of the roof while driving relaxed with one hand on the steering wheel. He hid his fluffy hair underneath a ball cap and his abs showing underneath his t-shirt. You couldn’t help but fall even more in love with the man. You had a crush on him before you even met him and it only got worse when you did meet him, falling completely head over heels for him.

He looked at you with a bright smile, meeting your energy and you felt so many butterflies that you didn’t even knew it was possible and the excitement of it helping with that. You gave him directions while you both started to sing along to a song that came up. It was David Bowie with Heroes and you were a big fan of Bowie. “Didn’t expect you to know this song.” Chris chuckled out while you looked at him shocked. “Are you kidding me? I love Bowie! Besides old music has a special place in my heart.” You told him and turned the radio up, your hand making waves out of the window from the car. The wind blowing through your hair. You let your head rest on your arms that rested besides the window so you got some more wind in your face.

When you finally arrived, Chris got the stuff and you pointed out a spot where you and your friends always laid. It was your favorite spot for a reason. You and Chris walked over the spot, laying down the big, sort of picnic blanket, towels by your side and got rid of all of your clothes. You always felt very self-conscious about your body, especially with Chris next to you but now you couldn’t care less and wanted to get in the water immediately. You looked over to Chris who got rid of his shirt as well and placed his belongings in the bag. You started to stare and check him out. Once he noticed that you checked him out, you felt shy and a little embarrassed. Chris just had a smug smile on his face. You held your arms automatically a little in front of your body and Chris noticed your discomfort.

“You look absolutely gorgeous. You shouldn’t hide your body. You really look amazing.” Chris told you with a smile and you felt butterflies in your stomach again and the heat going down. Maybe it was the heat getting to you or the fact that you were going for a midnight swim where it was just the two of you, now secluded but you felt horny as hell right now. “Thank you…. shall we?” you pointed shyly at the water and Chris gave you another smile. Oh lord, your daddy issues were kicking up and you could just melt on the spot, already feeling submissive. Maybe it was also the age-gap between the two of you what made it excited for you.

Chris walked a little in front of you but noticed that you hadn’t moved yet and turned around with a smirk “You coming?” he asked you and got you out of your trance. “Yeah, yeah.” You told him quickly and walked besides him. Your feet finally hit the water and it was so refreshing. Chris walked a little further and you followed him slowly. You were so glad that you finally got rid of the sticky, sweaty feeling and got a refreshment of some sort.

You felt so light and good that you took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a second. Of course you didn’t notice Chris staring mesmerized at you while the moon kissed your skin so softly and he couldn’t help but stare at you, this time he was in a trance. Once he snapped out of it, noticing that his swimming shorts getting a little to tight for his liking so he stepped more in the water, hoping that his erection wasn’t too noticeable but of course it was. He was quite build of you know what I mean.

He splashed some water on you, making you gasp from the sudden, unexpected cold hitting your skin. Your eyes flutter open and acted like you were shocked. Chris smirked and walked further in the water, just to be on the safe side with his, still growing bulge. You got more in the water with a smile and Chris couldn’t help but smile mesmerized at you. You noticed the look on his face and felt so flustered and well horny as well. You’ve never thought that a midnight swim could be this intimate and excited, the heat not working in both of your favors as well.

You took a dip and got up, Chris following your every move intently as the tension rose even further. “This is really nice.” You told him and he nodded. “Yeah, this was a good idea.” He told you and there fell a silence. You could hear the music that you had put on. There wasn’t a living soul around and besides there weren’t people living nearby. It was so secluded.

Chris followed you more in the water. “It’s beautiful here. I can see why you like it so much.” He told you, making you smile. “Yeah, it feels really freeing you know.” Chris nodded. He splashed some more water on you with a playful smirk which you returned and splashed water on his as well. His fluffy hair getting just a bit wet and you’ve never wanted to run your hands through his hair this much before. You both got more towards each other and you jumped on his back, earning a heartful laugh of him as he held you on his back. His arms holding you up by your legs and being this close to him for the first time, made your stomach do flips.

Your arms around his shoulders and neck, his hair tickling the side of your face and you let your head rest even more against the side of his face. Chris gently started to swim and wished you couldn’t feel his heart, almost beating out of his chest while you clang to him like a koala. His heart filled itself with so much love, that he was scared it would explode. The tension in the air was almost unbearable and the tightness of his trunks got more and more uncomfortable with the passing second.

You readjusted your head and let it rest on top of his head, feeling his fluffy hair underneath your chin. “Your hair is really soft.” You told him and couldn’t fight the feeling of letting your hands go though it and did so. You felt your heart skip a couple of beats when you let your fingers go through it. Chris closed his eyes and let out a soft shaky breath while he let his head go a little back so you had more excess to his hair. His growing bulge was now aggressively throbbing and he knew he couldn’t contain it anymore. You felt your pussy drip and throb as well, the heat getting almost too much and the tension definitely didn’t go unnoticed by the two of you.

You slipped off of his back and slowly, in trance walked in front of him. He kept looking with adoration in his eyes, following your every movement. Both of you remaining eye contact, completely entranced and indulged with one another. Chris splashed softly some water on you, making you giggle, giving you a loving smile. You had him completely wrapped around your finger and he, you. You splashed some back with a smile and it became a lazy water fight until you, all of a sudden, surprising yourself as well, wrapped your arms around his neck from the side and jumped on him playfully and got to a close proximity.

You both looked shocked into each other’s eyes but that disappeared really quick and both went into a trance. You felt his growing bulge against your leg and you were surprised by it. His arm held you up by your waist. You were both so indulged, forgetting your surroundings. His other arm came up to your waist as well and he pulled you in front of him while you still clang around him, your legs around his waist. You felt his erection against your own heated pussy and you couldn’t help but move a little. Chris tried to suppress a groan but closed his eyes, letting his head fall back. His grip on your hips getting stronger. The tension was now very noticeable for the both of you and getting really unbearable. You both couldn’t fight the feeling anymore, not that you even tried anymore.

You had perfect access to his neck and you couldn’t help but lick it. Your tongue got attached to his neck licking it seductively up to his chin, his stubbles scraping your tongue slightly, earning a very shaky breath from the man before you placed your lips on his neck, sucking it gently. You could hear him moan and felt his cock twitch against your throbbing pussy. Your hand going over his abs and you could feel his heart pounding. Your other arm still around his neck, his hands holding you up and close.

He put his head down and you both stared at each other in complete trance. He softly cupped your cheeks. You were holding yourself up now, clinging to him. You both kept the eye contact going before he pulled you in a heated and desired kiss. It was passionate and you needed each other very fast right now, unable to wait any longer. His tongue slipping in, his hand on the back of your head pulling you closer into the rushed kiss, wanting to explore every part of each other fast and needy. Your hand found his hair and tucked it slightly, earning another groan from him. He slowly walked to the edge of the lake.

His hands now holding you up by your ass and he squeezed it, earning a moan from you this time and you let your head fall back. His mouth now getting attached to your neck, his stubbles tickling your neck, giving it a nice burning sensation. Your hands once again tucking his hair. “I need you.” you whimpered out softly, the neediness glazed over your words and his mouth attacked yours again. “I need you too.” He told you already out of breath from all the pent up energy.

You started to grind against his cock and his chest. Chris moaned out and pushed you softly against the edge, your legs still around him. He put your bikini out of the way and attacked your nipple, in response you already arched your back at the electric feeling. Chris was a dominant man. Everyone could see that and you even noticed in some of his playful flirting towards you but now, he was just as needy for you as you were for him, the need to be close to one another. His lips went from your nipple to your neck again, then to your lips, connecting them again in a hungrily kiss before he peppered the side of your mouth with kisses and your cheek, wanting to kiss every part of your body.

You slid off of him and let your hands roam as well. You slowly went over his abs while he looked at you intently, awaiting your next move. Chris couldn’t wait anymore and attacked your neck, pinning you against the edge and his body. his hands roamed over your neck towards your breast and started to play with your nipples, earning another moan.

Your hands went over his abs towards his cock that was aggressively throbbing against his stomach and swimming trunks. You put your hand in his swimming trunks and your hand found his huge cock immediately. You could hear Chris moan out just by your soft touch in the water. Your thumb went over his tip and he let out another shaky breath. Chris’s hand disappeared in your bikini bottom as well and went over your slit. He could feel how horny you were, his finger already covered by your juices. He groaned at the feeling of his finger being connected into you. You both looked at each other, the neediness and mesmerized visibly in both of your eyes. “I need you in me, I need you closer.” You whimpered out and Chris nodded. He cupped your cheek softly and kissed you. He pulled his swimming trunks more down and put your bottoms to the side of your pussy.

He looked at you, your arms already locked around the back of his neck while you nodded quickly. You felt his cock against your entrance and he carefully pushed forward, looking at every feature on your face for discomfort. You moaned out “It’s okay, keep going Chris.” He nodded and pushed further. Once he was fully in you both moaned at the already somewhat of a release you got from it. Before he moved he looked intently at you again and placed loving kisses on your pillow lips before he started to explore your mouth once again hungerly.

His hips slowly moved forward, immediately hitting your g-spot. You both moaned out loudly and you let your head rest on his shoulder feeling extremely weak to your knees. Chris had his arms tightly locked around you. He picked you up again, your back leaning against the edge for support as well and he pushed his hips even further, his cock completely disappearing into you and filling you up to the brim. You cried out from the pleasure given to you. His lips found your neck once again, sucking it on your sensitive spot and his large hand cupping your breast.

He started to fasten his pace and you heard him groan in your ear. You couldn’t get a sound out of your throat from so much pleasure and felt a pit in your stomach, ready for release. “Don’t stop, I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop.” You mewled out. “I’m not stopping, I’m not gonna stop. Cum for me sweetheart.” He told you out of breath and placed a soft kiss on your ear. You started to clench around him and Chris moaned out loudly in response. “That’s it baby, cum for me.” you started to shake around him and Chris pulled you tighter against his body, goosebumps covering your body.

Once you came down from your high, Chris held you cheeks softly in his palms and smiled lovingly before kissing you again. “I’ve been waiting so long for this.” He told you and you felt flustered at the way he looked at you. Like he was looking right into your soul. Chris kissed the tip of your nose and lips again. When your lips connected he started his pace again but you still clenched around him. “I’m not gonna last long sweetheart.” He breathed against your cheek. “It’s okay, cum in me. I wanna feel you.” he growled at your response and picked up his pace again and you felt yourself grow closer once again. “I’m going to cum again.” You breathed out. Chris started to groan and moan loudly in your ear and you held your arms tightly around the back of his neck, keeping him close to your body. You felt warm liquid shoot up in your pussy and you clenched around him, getting into your own orgasm as well.

Chris stayed in you while you both tried to catch your breath. He looked lovingly into your eyes and you couldn’t look away. Your fingers going through his hair once again, slowly moving down to his cheek and this time you cupped his cheek, his stubbles tickling your palm, your thumb softly rubbing up and down.

You both started to chuckle and Chris placed his lips on yours again. You started to clench around him again, still feeling horny for him. I mean, who wouldn’t right? Chris moaned again and you felt him growing hard again inside of you. You moved a little and a whimper escaped his lips while he closed his eyes. “Oh Y/N, you’re addicting.” He told you and lifted your chin so he had access to your neck again.

You moved more up and down and Chris lowered you down, making you look surprised at him. “Let’s get out of the water princess.” He told you with a soft wink and a smile, letting you know he wasn’t just yet done with you.

He held your hand and let the way. You couldn’t help but felt excited for what was to come. Once you got back to the blanket, the only sound hearable was the music and it was as if Spotify knew what was going on and played sensual music. Or maybe everything was sensual for you now. Chris still held your hand and softly pulled you closer. He cupped your cheek and you had to stand on your tippy toes in order to kiss him. He pulled you closer to his body, your breast against his chest and he started to kiss your cheek. He was so extremely gentle and loving that your heart felt like it could burst right now.

He laid you down on the blanket, his body on top of yours, still exploring each other’s mouth. He looked down at your body and let his hands explore every curve of your body. “I can’t wrap my mind around how gorgeous you are.” He told you and that was the moment you thought your heart had burst. You always felt so insecure since you weren’t the most skinniest girl and it could make you insecure sometimes. You felt the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes and softly sniffled while his hands softly went over your skin. Once Chris heard you sniffle, he quickly looked up at you.

Concern gathered on his face. “What’s wrong baby? Have I said something? Did I hurt you?” he asked you worried, his hand resting on your cheek. You chuckled and shook your head. “Do you really mean that?” you asked him and he was a little confused. “do I mean what baby girl?” his thumb softly rubbing your cheek. “What you just had said.” It visibly clicked in his head.

“Yeah of course I mean every word. When I tell you that you are drop dead gorgeous. I mean look at you! I love your curves so much. I don’t think words can express how gorgeous I think you are. But I can show you.” he told you lovingly. “You mesmerize me in every way possible. And I mean it when I tell you, that you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He told you, looking intently in your eyes so you would know that he really meant that. More tears slipped and you chuckled, pulling him up so you could kiss him.

His hands roamed your body again and disappeared into your bottoms again. He groaned into your mouth, making you moan while his finger went over your slit. He slowly pushed his finger inside and started to pump into you, making you moan and held on tightly to his bicep. You let your head fall back and he attacked your neck once again, while he still laid on top of you. Your lips felt sore from so many kisses but it was the good sore, making them more plump than they already were.

Chris pushed himself a little up so he could look at your face. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw Chris hanging above you, his necklace dangling above you as well and you clenched around his finger from the sight alone. He smiled at you once he felt you clench. He got his hand out of your bikini and licked his finger which was covered in your juices and still his cum. You whimpered at the sight and how hot it was. Chris grinned at you and kissed between your breast, his hair tickling on your skin and he slowly went down on you before pulling your bikini off.

He caressed your thighs ever so gently and lowered himself completely down. You opened your legs automatically for him and he licked your slit up and you were already shaking from anticipation. His arms held your legs tightly, flexing his bicep around you. His tongue disappeared completely in your pussy and you gasped at the sensation. Your hand found his hair, tucking it for leverage. You started to moan out and his tongue got attached to your clit. You bucked your hips up and Chris placed his hand on your lower belly, keeping you down. He started to suck your clit and went with his finger softly over your slit before entering you and pumped. You saw his bicep flex at the movements he made.

The sight was what made you cum. You tried to suppress a moan and whimpered. “Chris….. I’m going to…” you couldn’t even finish your sentence. “It’s okay baby, you can cum.” He told you and you were already in your orgasm. He pushed and sucked through it until you calmed down but your limbs still kept shaking. You got away from him and sat on your knees, pulling him up as well, surprising Chris a little. You attacked his mouth and you could taste yourself on his lips, making you moan in the kiss.

He held you by your waist, slowly moving down and pulled you tight against his body. You softly guided him to lay down with your hands on his abs. He laid down and it was like a painting. The look in his eyes, his tattoos showing clearly in the moonlight, his hair shining and just him. You softly tucked his trunks down and he got them out completely. You kissed his lips, went to his neck, already making his breath hitch and moan a little. Your lips left a wet trail down over his abs which you licked. Your hand already around his big cock, already twitching in your hand, waiting for release.

You licked his shaft and his head fell down with a groan. His hand on the back of your head. You licked the tip before slowly putting him in. he was huge and already knew that you weren’t able to take him in completely but that didn’t mean that you weren’t going to try. You gagged around his cock, trying to relax your throat. Chris moaned “you feel so good around me.” you hummed and put him even deeper, saliva dripping down on his cock and your tongue playing with his tip in the meanwhile. Your hand gently caressing his balls and massaged them softly.

Chris pulled you up and looked with the utter most adoration in his eyes. “You’re too good and if you keep doing that, I’ll cum in no second but I need to be inside of you.” he told you, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Please stay on all fours.” He told you and you did what he asked. He moved behind you and you looked behind you towards Chris. Chris placed some saliva in his hand and rubbed it on his cock, even though it wasn’t necessary, it was a picture on its own and god it was hot.

You felt his cock by your entrance and he slowly pushed inside, this time Chris almost got weak to his knees. “God you’re perfect.” He told you making you whimpered from anticipation and praise. He got completely into you and had to pause for a second so he wouldn’t cum right then and there on the spot. He kissed your shoulders softly and slowly started to pound into you. You whimpered and had no strength to hold yourself up by your arms so only your ass was up. Chris’s hand squeezed your cheeks and lowered himself over you, getting your breasts in his hands squeezing them as well.

You heard him panting out above you and you clenched around him, making him fall half on top of you, losing the strength to keep himself up as well. “Oh god, you feel so extreme good.” He praised you and you whimpered out. He got out of you, knowing that, tonight, he didn’t have the strength. “Lay on your back baby.” he told you and you were quick to turn around. Chris smiled lovingly at you, his focus completely on you. His lips on yours in a loving, slow and sensual kiss. He softly entered you again and started to pick up his pace and kissing the sensitive spot in your neck, which was red by now.

You felt another orgasm going to hit you fast and clenched around him. “Baby, if you keep doing that, I won’t last.” He told you out of breath. “I can’t help it, you fuck so good, I’m going to cum again.” You whimpered, trying to hold it back and Chris notice. “It’s okay baby. You can cum. You don’t have to hold back, let it go. I’ll cum with you.” he told you and attached his thumb on your clit, helping you to let go.

Chris looked up at you. “You okay baby?” he asked you, his finger softly caressing your features. You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m very good.” You chuckled out, making him chuckle as well. Chris looked mesmerized at you. “Let me take you on a proper date. You deserve nothing but the best.” He told you and you felt spoiled, flustered and treated like a queen. “I would love that.” He smiled. “Want to go in the water and wash everything off?” he asked you softly, making you nod.

You let out a loud moan and quickly placed your hand in front of your mouth to muffle it. You went into your orgasm and it was so explosive that only soft whimpers escaped you. Chris hid his face on your shoulder and had an explosive orgasm the same time, his cum shooting in your pussy.

Chris let his head rest on your breast now, trying to get his breathing under control. Your hand went through his hair and your nails softly scraping his head. You felt his cum seep out of you.

He helped you up and you both walked into the water. Chris pulled you against his chest in a warm bear hug. This was definitely the best hug you’ve ever had. His hand was on the back of your head and went slowly towards the back of your neck while his other hand, his fingertips slowly went up and down your spine. Once you were ‘clean’ again you walked back to the blanket and got dressed. Chris laid down and looked at the stars, inviting you to lay against him.

You placed your hand around his chest, his arm around you while your head was on his chest. “I’m getting sleepy.” You told him. “Close your eyes, it’s okay sweetheart.” He told you and you did what he told you, feeling safe and sound. You fell into a deep sleep while Chris went up and down with his fingertips on your back, comforting you.

You woke up by a splash of very cold water and shot up. You felt Chris shoot up besides you as well and you got the water out of your face to see who had the nerve to wake you from your peaceful sleep. You saw your friend group looking at you with a smirk. Chris had never met your friends yet but apparently he will today. You groaned. “Seriously guys?” you asked them and Chris was a little confused.

“Chris these assholes are my friends.” You told them and chuckled slightly. You introduced everyone and felt that the sun was already very sharp. “What time is it?” you asked them and they gave the both of you two ice coffees. “It’s around 11 in the morning. But what the hell. You guys slept here or something?” Your best friend asked. You and Chris looked at each other shyly. “Ehh yeah. Was too hot in the house.” You told him sheepishly but he knew. He looked between you and Chris and nodded after a while with a smirk. “I guess I’m going to see you more often.” He told Chris who chuckled and nodded. “I hope so.” He told him but looked at you. You smiled back at him. “Yeah you will.” Chris smiled back and it was clear to everyone that you were both madly in love with each other.

The day excited out a lot of swimming with your friends, drinking, relaxing in the sun and playing games along with a whole lot of flirting with Chris and he with you. Stolen kisses when nobody was looking and soft delicate touches for comfort and affection. It definitely wasn’t a bad thing that it was so extremely hot and it was definitely the best summer yet.

Taglist: @patzammit @rogersdrysdalebarber @justile @babyevansblog @hazelqueenland @littlebluecupcake @seitmai @mavrellover91 @phildunphyisadilf

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arliedraws · 17 days

Note

I find it many things weird in Harry Potter, in general the plot holes are everywhere and things when you think about them just don't make much sense, even in storytelling perspective, and consistency.

One thing that I find appalling is how Sirius didn't notice the scarring on Harry's hand, from Umbridges lines. It's established canonically they're lasting scars. Sirius already had to watch from the literal shadows how Harry was enrolled in that tournament, already fearing for his godsons life bc he suspected Voldemort was involved. How couldn't any responsible guardian, not notice Harry was physically abused, again, under Dumbledores nose, but away from Sirius direct influence to be able to do anything. Then on top of that, Snape is gonna to do the occlumensy lessons, and while Sirius knew that was necessary, I mean, he was outraged when he heared Snape stopped it, but ok, he let it all slide? If I were Sirius I would have pulled Harry out myself for that year, enough is enough. If Dumbledores presence didn't prevent Harry's suffering, in fact his choices add to Harry's real physical abuse (Dursleys, certain teachers). Sirius could educate Harry theoretical until Umbridge was gone. Harrry was save enough in Grimmauld during christmas and the summer so why not.

Its like those I mustn't tell lies scars only are there when needed and then forgotten during times of the plot supporting characters might have reacted to them, like Sirius or whomever. Sirius is a genius wizard but can't turn into an unassuming anonymous figure to go outside, like Hermione did to Ron's features with just her wand and spells in b7, negating need for polyjuice, it's his dog form or permanent housearrest (which leads to disintegration of his mind /character and then he dies)

At some point I'm really suspect this is character driven anymore and just JKs incompetence to consistently implement Sirius's character. Like you already said somewhere here, he is a miracle character. Too clever, too bright, too loyal to continue in the story JK wanted to tell like you said somewhere before. I have a feeling JK didn't know what to do with Sirius, denigrated him and his character and then killed him off. His best role at the end to fulfill is to reinforce Harry's suffering and loneliness it seems, while Sirius actually was the main hope of Harry in the heart of the series. So meaningless!

While I love character metas, I think JK is a meanspirited woman, I always had that notion bc she reacted in some ways, even before the whole modern eh, shenanigans. And that meanness, pettiness and inconclusive attitude reflect in hps worldbuilding.

I agree with several points here!

If Sirius had been in a better mental space, I agree that he would have noticed the scars from the blood quill. However, we could also interpret this as Sirius being exceptionally depressed. Now, I’m not defending JKR here, but one thing we do have to remember is that Sirius was a convicted murderer and Harry’s legal guardians were the Dursleys. Sirius literally has no say in what Harry does. Sirius is not a person with rights—in the eyes of the law, he is due to have his soul sucked out. Anytime Sirius makes a decision on Harry’s behalf, it’s a courtesy thing, not a legal guardian thing. Unfortunately. It’s gross to say, but legally, Molly has the same rights as Sirius to tell Harry what to do—which is, gross.

Also, sure, Sirius could go out of number 12 in disguise but he’s in hiding because he knows he can’t risk his own safety for Harry’s sake. Dumbledore has made it very clear that Sirius is not to leave, and frankly, by the way Harry believed he had to rescue Sirius, this was actually probably the right call. Sirius is the most important person to Harry (and likewise), and if Sirius were taken captive by either the Ministry or Voldemort, Harry would done something unwise (which…he did). I’m not arguing that this is how it should have gone down, but theoretically (if you ignore the importance of mental health and stability lol), this should have been the right call.

But the point is, Voldemort’s ability to manipulate people and destroy friendships is what killed Sirius. Voldemort manipulated Dumbledore who thought he was smarter than Voldemort; Dumbledore prioritized keeping Harry alive but sacrificed Sirius in the end. I do think JKR punishes Sirius for being smart and attractive (lol), calling him rash when he’s really…not, but I think it’s important to recognize that even the smartest, most caring people can make mistakes and overlook the pain of the people they love most.

I think Sirius is partially in denial about some of Harry’s struggles. As a man of action, Sirius’s inclination is to fix things, and when he cannot fix in the way he believes is necessary, he shuts down. He comes alive at the end of OotP when he is able to help in the way he wants—and then JKR kills him for it lol.

Anyway, just some thoughts. I don’t actually think Sirius was behaving out-of-character, but I think JKR was unmerciful in putting this fictional character into situations that brought out the worst in him because it served the plot. Just my two cents though!

#sirius black #asks #hp meta

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raffe156 · 1 year

Text

You Broken?

Pairing - Price X Female OC “Tank”

Summary - Angst, haha this is where it all starts an the story behind the matching scars.

A/N - This is based around the first games missions it all kicks off haha so before Ghost and Soap so it's just MC, Kyle, Price, Farah and Alex in this one. No smut things are implied but nothing nsfw haha

ULF - Urzikstan Liberation Force

Laswell is a bit of a bitch in this game also telling John no a lot of time, like really give the man his airstrike woman or I will!

Going to be slowly nudging this story line into my Mc codename “Tank” I know its not sexy etc but who cares these days! It’s based around my Name being Tiger and the Tiger Tank was one of the most feared Tanks during WW2 nearly unstoppable, but it wasn’t without its flaws and needed constant maintenance (Don’t we all) so yeh it's a bit long, but as always comments and feedback welcome

Warnings - Angst. Language, Age gap Price (39) reader (25), Mutual Pining, Violence, Weapons war/fighting stuff basically, Fluff

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters- Only Tank

Sakhra, Uzikstan, Embassy Compound armory

“I think I’m missing an ammo pack?… You got a spare Tank?” - Kyle asked patting himself down, you removed one ammo pack and handed it to him.

“It probably went missing when you two fell out the Helo”- Price grumbled. You looked at him in disbelief. He continued to pack hits kit.

“When we fell out? You fell out first? It was hit…I just about got my rappel connected!” - You tried to control your temper, but he wasn’t listening to you just continued to pack and plan. Something was wrong; you could feel it in your gut. Was he mad that you didn’t act fast enough to connect to the line or that Kyle risked his life by pulling you onto his as the helicopter spun out? You didn't know, but what you did know was that you would go mad before you knew why…

Price knew he was being harsh, but he was annoyed more so at himself than you, he knew he should have double-checked you were connected in, but you always snapped at him when he did. “You don't check Kyle!” He heard it ring in his ears.

He should have just checked and taken the tongue-lashing later. The one time he didn’t check was the time the helo gets hit by a strike…fuck he could have lost both of you…He zoned back in you were still banging around, packing your kit and loading your vest with flash-bangs. Price notices that one of your glow sticks has been damaged and is leaking green liquid down your pants, you must have touched it as you now have green marks all over your face. He could feel a slight smirk pull at his mouth. You snap your head up at him, oh if looks could kill he’d be dead and buried.

“What’s funny? You finally lost your mind old man?” - You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but you were mad. The old man hit him more than it should, but to you, he probably is an old man. He was 15 years your senior. He had already served a year in the army when you were fresh out of your mother's womb, but why did it hurt him to hear you say it out loud?

“Old man, eh?…” - he laughed, and you felt a shudder crawl up your spine and over your scalp. He was laughing at you, you thought.

“Yeh, old man! You are always on at me for this and that I don't even know what I've done wrong half the time! But that before, with the helo being shot down I didn't know I wasn't connected in right…you usually always double-check me…I was lucky that it held and Kyle gripped me to his!” - You slammed your fist on the desk, your eyes pricking slightly. Price looked incensed; his neck was red, his eyes boring into you. He was livid.

“YEH wanna know why I always check you're connected in right!? Coz I'm your fucking Captain and I don't know what I’d do if anything happened to you……” - Price was right in your face and as the words sunk he corrected himself.

“If anything happened to you or Kyle…I'm your Captain your BOTH my responsibility…whether you like it or not! I should have checked you were connected in, right that's on me” - He backed up, returning to his kit.

Why do you always get him like this? You were shocked at his admission, he's mad because he thinks it's his fault for not checking your line. You searched his face for more, the pit in your stomach pulling you in on yourself with guilt. The silence was broken by Alex handing you a tissue.

“You have glow stick on your face…”- He looked over at Price who was still looking over maps and his kit. You had almost forgotten about the three other people in the room, all three of them looking at you and Price. Your little domestic. Your Captain admitting he cares.

“Parents eh?” - Alex gave you a sympathetic look. Kyle laughed.

“The way these two bicker it's more like an old married couple…sometimes…” - He stopped as you shot him a dirty look. You tried to wipe the glow stick off your face but the tissue was rough and dry it wouldn’t budge.

“Here…use this to wet it, should come right off” - Price handed you a bottle of water. His tone was off, the pit sinking you in deeper.

“Thanks…” - You took it your fingers resting on his for a second too long, but he didn't pull away he simply looked at you, his eyes crinkling slightly with a small smile. You returned it. There, a silent “all forgiven, all forgotten” you had lost count of how many you two had shared.

—————————————————

Darus, Urzikstan

Price wasn't sure about you going with Alex and Farah to sit outpost on the Highway of Death as Farah had called it, he wanted you clearing house in the town with him where he could keep an eye on you. But Farah had reassured him she would keep you “safe” not that she thought you needed it, she took every opportunity to recruit you to the ULF, and Price answered for you every time with a “NO, Farah”, she still tried it though.

“I will keep her with me John no need to worry about your little Tank she is more than capable of looking after herself” - Farah patted the older man on the shoulder. She sensed something more but decided not to pry. He reluctantly let you go. He knew Farah was right; he didn't need to worry about you, so why did he? You waved at him from the back of the pickup, but before he could wave back, you had turned your head to Alex, laughing at something he had said. Smug git, he thought. Was he jealous?

“Boss, you ready? Wheels up in 2” - Kyle shouted over, Price made a mental note to ask you later what was so funny. Until then, he had to get his head in the game.

——————————————————

Highway of Death

You waved at Price. He hadn’t wanted you to go with Alex and Farah, and you knew why, You, him and Kyle worked well, effective as he put it, but you knew Farah needed your demolition skills with some of the charge rig ups so you volunteered. He wasn't happy about it but he couldn't exactly say no he had more than enough help with Kyle and Team Bravo. As you waved, Alex started laughing at you.

“You look like a kid on their first trip to summer camp saying bye to their parents!” - He was rolling up a cigarette, laughing as he licked it shut. You laughed at the thought, you turned to see if Price was waving back, but he had turned his back.

“He did wave back I saw him” - Farah patted your knee, she could see it comforted you to know. You smiled back at her.

“He is a good man, Tank. I trust him with my life…that is why I have promised to keep you safe and return you to him, as I fear if I do not, he will cut that life short” - She gently nudged you and you simply nodded with a smile.

“He’d say the same to you about Kyle, his other golden child” - You laugh, trying to ease the insinuation in her statement.

“Maybe you are right, but I don't think he sees you as his child. I think he sees you as something more” - Her words sink into you and she realizes she has completely fogged your mind.

“But what do I know eh? I’ve been out here fighting for my country don’t listen to me” - She put her hand out for Alex’s lit cigarette. Alex was just as confused as you and handed it over, blowing the smoke out his nose. You needed to think clearly. Price was just worried because this whole thing was a shit show and he was a man of habit. He liked you and Kyle at his side, that was all.

———————————————————

Things had gone south fast not only was Farah’s own brother the one who stole the Russian Gas but you were now dragging yourself to the bunker, the gas creeping into your lungs, choking you, ripping at your throat. Where was Price? He had radioed, saying he was 5 mins away. It was Alex that pulled you in pushing a Gas mask over your face it was useless some of the gas had already gotten in.

“Breathe Tank breathe…Shit!” - He was trying to keep you conscious while also trying to stay upright himself. You spotted Farah on the ground, and you gave Alex a look of panic.

“She’s fine…she breathing…your hyperventilating though you need to take slow deep breaths please or else Price will have my head on a stake…” - Alex guided you to take deep breaths with him, you tried but your body was fighting you with every intake of breath. Your hands balled up into fists on Alex’s chest, Fuck you were panicking, spiraling out of control where was Price? You couldn't get a handle on your breathing, your brain going static, you couldn't keep your eyes open, but then you noticed a shift in the light behind Alex. You felt yourself being pulled forward into someone’s body, the gas mask being ripped off, hands on either side of your face, the bump of a forehead hitting yours.

“Breath, for me please on my count 1…2…3…” - Price had you now guiding you back from the edge. With the few sharp breaths you took, you could smell him, Kerosene, cigars and warm sand…his presence guided you back, his blue eyes never leaving yours, your lungs were on fire but your breathing was somewhat back to normal, heart rate still high though Price could tell his hands slipped down to your pulse point.

“You broken? Had me worried there for a sec…” - He feigned a smile for you, but he was reeling inside. He still had you pressed forehead to forehead so you were a little blurry to him but he could see the relief in your eyes.

“No not broken…I'm good now your here…Thanks, Cap…”- Your voice burned but you needed to get the words out, you needed to tell him you were grateful, that you needed him, that you never wanted to leave his side again. But thanks, Cap was all you could manage.

He sat there with your for a few moments longer than needed, but he knew you needed it. He Promised himself he wasn't letting you go from his side again.

—————————————————————

Barkov’s Chemical Factory,

Borjomi, Georgia

You had pushed yourselves to the main pipeline and fought through heavy resistance, you were now here ready to plant the charges, you could taste the end, and you were where you need to be right next to your Captain, but it wasn't over, not yet, you stood watch over the stairwell that lead up to the location you had cleared house, but some stragglers always remain. You glanced over at Price. He was handing Kyle the remaining two charges. He clocked you looking over and winked.

******

Kyle had asked you back at base about your plans when the job was done. You had noticed Price listening in on your conversation.

“Don’t know might go see my family, not really thought about it, you?” - You were being truthful. You hadn’t thought about what you were going to do.

“You should head my way, your only a 3hr drive away…you could get the train or I could come pick you up…both of you…take you for a pint some lunch, get you two city kids out into the country haha” - Price didn't look over at you, instead, he inspected his zippo lighter it wouldn't spark, he also was regretting the invitation immediately why would they want to come spend time with him out in the sticks, when they both had families and friends to see maybe partners who missed them.

He knew Kyle was speaking to some girl from Essex, but he had never actually asked you if you had anyone and to be fair it wasn't his place to ask, who was he kidding, of course, you did he wasn't a fool he noticed how people acted around you…those poor Marines back at the US embassy,one of them dropped his radio at the sight of you, when you picked it up and handed it to him flashing a smile, your best smile Price half expected the Marines head to fall off!

Of course you had someone.

“Yeh ok, I’d like that actually, will have to look at train times…but I'm up for that” - You meant it. Price was stunned.

“Yeh we should make a weekend of it Boss, sure you’ve got a spare room, if not me and you can top and tail and Tank can take the couch!” - Kyle was laughing at the thought.

“Or you two can take the couch I'll have the Captain's bed!”- you were mocking Kyle's laugh. It was a four-bed house but the image of you in his bed flashed across Price’s mind. You tangled up in his sheets, messy hair, sleepy eyes, a croaky “Good mornin” and that little half smile you give when you haven’t had enough kip. He blinked it away but stored it for later.

“What about that girl your seeing from Essex?” - the question was loaded. Price hoped it got him the answer he wanted from you.

“Nah she’ll be ok…what about you? you got anyone waiting by the window?” - Kyle looked over at you smirking. He knew the answer was No.

“Very funny Kyle…but no the only person waiting for me by the window will be the family dog!” - You threw your gloves at him. Price was shocked you were single, He didn't have chance to comment as you and Kyle where now planning the entire weekend at his place between you.

“Wait, did you say you would drive up to get us? I'm down south?…” - Kyle was doing the miles in his head.

“Well then you can get the train Garrick, I'm only up the road” - You glanced over at Price who was just happy you were both up for it.

“You two sort it out amongst yourselves, I'm only picking one of you up and if I'm honest Kyle I think it's not gonna be you!” - Price chuckled. His lighter finally sparked to life. He heard your little laugh at the small victory.

“Yeh nice one boss, good luck with a 3-hour road trip with this one, I bet you £20 you leave her on the hard shoulder of the M60 after 1 hour” - Kyle was smirking at you now.

“Nice try, Kyle, I'm a fantastic road trip partner, don’t worry, Boss I've got better taste in music than Kyle and better snack options. You won't regret your choice” - You saluted him laughing, giving him your best smile.

“Well, as long as you don't get car sick and don't mind me smoking in the car, we are good” - He saluted you back and winked. It made your heart skip a beat. You were looking forward to it. You really were.

******

“Nearly finished over here Tank” - Price walked over to you, you had your back to him. He was about 2 feet away when he saw the glint in the distance then the red dot on his chest. Before he could react, you had reached back to shove him out of the way, the bullet ripped through your chest and into his shoulder. As he fell back, he tried to reach out to you to pull you down and into him, but you had fallen to the left.

“NO NO NO TANK! KYLE GET DOWN! WATCHER 1 WE NEED EVAC NOW! SNIPER…NORTH EAST…TANK IS DOWN I REPEAT TANK IS DOWN!” - Price was shouting down the comms, Kyle took cover behind one of the vents, he aimed with his Uzi, bang.

“Sniper down, Captain…We need to move, charges are set…” - Kyle made his way over, Price was already up on his feet, making his way to you, his right arm stiff and refusing to cooperate, but it didn't stop him from pulling you up and into him. What had you done, you stupid girl?

“Kate, we need immediate evac, Tank is down, unconscious…I can't…” - Price was almost pleading with Laswell.

“…No can do John, can't get a bird in the air near those charges…can't risk it…you need to get her down to base level we’ll have medic evac waiting…I'm sorry, John” - Kyle could hear the regret in her voice and felt the anger and desperation rolling off Price.

”FUCK……Speak to me Tank…please…can you hear me?” - He was desperately searching for an answer from you any sign you could hear him. He had all but forgotten his own wound instead looking over your shoulder a clean shot, good that would heal ok. Kyle applied pressure to it for him, he touched the back of your head it was damp and sticky. Shit.

You felt cold, numb, but suddenly you felt an immense pressure on your body, you were moving, there the pressure was coming from your chest and head, you were being held tight to someone, you tried to flutter your eyes open a flash of blue, then white then back to black. The smell of Gun oil and tobacco filled your nose. Price. He was close, did he have hold of you? Was he ok?

“Kid, please open your eyes again…look at me…we are getting you back to base I just need you to tell me you can hear me…I promise you're going to be ok I'm going to make sure of it…” - His voice was strained. You remember what happened now…you noticed the shooter seen the red dot and that it wasn't on you. You knew Price was standing behind you, it was on him the shot was meant for him. You didn't even think. You just shoved him out of the way. You could hear Kyle, his voice was soft, but he wasn't talking to you. He was talking to Price, reassuring him, consoling him.

“Cap, we need to get her moved, these charges need to go off also, your bleeding a lot boss…Tank would kill me if she woke up only to find out I’d let you bleed out…” - Kyle patted him on the back, helping him move you into Kyle’s arms.

“Easy with her Kyle…We’re getting you out of here kid…I won't let anything happen to you…I promise…” -Price squeezed your hand his face lighting up when your squeezed it back.

“I know…Cap…does this mean…I get your bed…when we come round?” - You gave him a weak smile. It was all he needed.

“Kid if you make it out of this and back to me you can have the whole house” - Price let out a sigh of relief only letting go of your hand when Kyle turned to make his way down the stairs with you. Price followed.

——————————————————

Base camp Med wing, Urzikstan

Price hadn’t left your side, Kyle had to force him to get his shoulder seen to, but he insisted they check him over in the same room as you stating it would be easier and less combative. Price never took his eyes off your monitor.

“She’s going to be fine Captain Price, a full recovery, bright young thing like her she will bounce right back…you are more than welcome to stay here with her but she is heavily sedated” - The Doctor gave you the once over before leaving Price.

He adjusted the sling his right arm was in, he would wear it till you woke up, he knew you would go mad if he didn't. Price looked at your face, you looked so small in the bed. You were covered in wires. The sooner you were out the better, he thought, he ran his hand over his beard. He knew you were sedated and probably on another planet, but he still spoke to you as if you could hear him.

“I know this great little pub up in the hills near me, cracking views I know you're going to love it kid…” - Price smiled, he leaned over you kissing the top of your head. He sat himself down in the chair by your bedside, pulling his hat down over his eyes. 5 mins he’ll give himself then he’ll check on you again. He could rest easy knowing you were where you belonged at his side.

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